Black Madness
by Origins of Insanity
Summary: Not your usual Potter!Twins story. When the wrong child is named Saviour, the Black Family intervenes, causing chaos and changing the fate of the wizarding world in the process. AU and eventual slash.
1. First Glance

**.Black Madness.**

**Summary: Not your usual Potter!Twins story. When the wrong child is named Saviour, the Black Family intervenes, causing chaos and changing the fate of the wizarding world in the process.**

.sSs.

**.First Glance.**

_We do not own anything of Harry Potter. JKR does. If we had anything to do with Harry Potter, there would be a hell of a lot more slash. _

_Do enjoy._

_The Origins of Insanity. _

.sSs.

In the reception of St Mungo's hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries it was, at first glance, as normal as the Wizarding hospital could get.

Rows of witches and wizards sat upon rickety wooden chairs, some looking perfectly normal and perusing out-of-date copies of Witch Weekly, others sporting rather nasty disfigurements such as elephant ears and extra limbs growing from rather awkward places. The crowded room was full of chatter and odd noises as witches and wizards in lime-green robes walked up and down the isles, asking questions and taking notes on clipboards.

At second glance, one would see that something was indeed not quite right.

The majority of the room's occupants were tense, not because of the wizard that had recently been rushed past on a stretcher covered in blood, or because of the general feeling of despair that overtook the hospital. No, their nervousness stemmed from the man at the back of the room, the man in the black robes who was currently alternating between pacing up and down and changing the color of the wallpaper, all the while ranting about something no one really understood.

But, in regards to their lives and personal sanity, they silently agreed to leave the man alone.

No one wanted to anger a Black.

.sSs.

To say Sirius Black was nervous was an understatement. His feet wore down the tiled floor of the reception room as he paced, unconsciously changing the color of the hospital walls with the occasional nervous twirl of his wand. His two companions watched with amused smiles.

"-what if she's bleeding, something horrible might of happened, it might have gone wrong, Lily might be in pain! Prongs might be pain! Oh god, what if there was an explosion that we haven't heard about or a freak tsunami and they've all died! What if-"

He spun around to stare wildly at the other two, his hands pulling at shoulder-length black hair. Andromeda Tonks and Remus Lupin both raised an eyebrow at him as he panted, having worked himself into hysteria.

"What if Lord Mouldy-shorts decided that he really really felt like murdering Prongs and the Lily-flower!? He could have Apparated in to Lil's room and used his Flashy-Green-Light-of-Doom to kill them all and everyone else here is under Imperius so they won't notice and, and, and, OHMYGOD, I'M COMING PRONGS!"

Andromeda sighed softly. Trust Sirius to worry himself to the point where reason no longer held any place in his mind. Only her cousin would do it. Only her cousin would even think such a stupid theory would work. Only Sirius.

She watched as he spun round in a circle, before pointing at the door leading to the upper floors and preparing to disappear – as soon as the young Mediwitch moved out of the way, of course.

"_Locomotor Mortis_"

Oww.

Remus and Andromeda laughed as Sirius gave them a kicked puppy look from where he was sprawled on the floor, several feet away. The other occupants of the reception room determinedly did not look in their direction. For some of them it was proving to be quite an effort.

"E-Excuse me?"

The young Mediwitch interrupted the escalating chaos surrounding the cousins. Remus looked at her expectantly, determinedly ignoring the ensuing drama growing beside him.

"Mr and Mrs Potter are ready to see you now."

Sirius jumped up enthusiastically, having discretely broken the Leg-Locker Curse several minutes earlier. Andromeda stopped berating her cousin in surprise.

"Let's go!"

With that, the Animagus fled upstairs, completely ignoring the recently vacated elevator.

Remus just looked at the unfortunate Mediwitch thankfully, before joining Andromeda in pursuit of Sirius.

.sSs.

"Uh...nice to see you, Lils...May I ask, why is James passed out in the doorway?"

"I might have mangled his fingers during my sixth contraction...I think. Or was it the seventh...?"

She trailed off with a small smile. Andromeda was amazed by this Black-worthy display of casual brutality. Remus just looked nervous. Andromeda peered into the crib beside the still smiling mother, ignoring the conversation beginning between Werewolf and woman.

"He's so cute..."

She reached out to touch the cooing infant's upraised hand, careful not to disturb his sleeping brother. He smiled.

A rush of images broke through the shields encasing her mind, to many to grasp clearly. A few stood out vividly; The Dark Lord, standing over a crimson crib, lions stalking snitches, "The prophecy is meaningless, I make my own destiny." a flash of green, a piercing wail.

A small child, sitting on the grass, small snake at his feet, a hissed conversation. He turned towards her, eyes flashing green, lightning scar. A crowd of people, rushing towards two small figures, surrounding the redhead, pushing the dark-haired child aside, nearly trampled, eyes brightening with power, a hissed word, the crowd parts, suspicion and fear.

White. Then another future. Celebration, a true Lord, Powerful, Dark, Just. The Black family crest. The vision fell away, leaving Andromeda shaking.

_Oh shit._

_Dumbledore won't like this._

It was only after these thoughts had passed through her mind that she wondered what the child's name was.

"Jack's the oldest, 11:38 July 31st. That's Harry who's awake; he was born at midnight on August first. They're fraternal twins."

Lily said with another proud smile, before glancing at her fallen husband. She had not noticed that Andromeda was shaking and staring at the youngest twin with a mixture of horror and awe.

"Can...Can I hold him, Lily?"

Lily looked conflicted for a moment.

"The Mediwitch did say he should stay with his brother... But if it's only for a little while... I guess its okay."

Andromeda gave a shaky smile, and carefully lifted the burbling baby, sharply reminded of a younger Nymphadora. A few seconds later, she winced as he gave her dark hair a painful tug. Lily laughed, causing Remus to look up from where he was seated in the corner, shielding the plain cover of The Book from view. Lily waved a Sugar Quill at him, indulging his strange obsession for the hefty tome.

At that, Sirius finally burst through the door, having evidently broken down and asked directions. It would have been a dramatic entrance, had James not been lying on the threshold. Instead the Animagus Black went flying forward and landed heavily on Remus, who shielded The Book with his body in an effort to prevent further injuries.

The resulting commotion, which included Lily lecturing the two marauders, woke up Jack who promptly began to cry, quickly followed by Harry. The cries proved loud enough to penetrate the pain of several broken fingers, when James awoke with a jolt. The moan of pain shocked the mature members of the group into silence, which was why Sirius was presumably able to keep up his litany of curses for several minutes, although due to Remus's timely Silencio, no one was quite sure exactly what he was saying.

"What's going on? Meda? where did you come from?"

James Potter's eyes widened as he took in the wailing child in Andromeda's arms.

"Babies!" He exclaimed with wide-eyed surprise.

"Yes James, babies."

Lily laughed as she rocked the cradle beside the bed. Remus uncurled from around The Book and pulled out his wand.

"_Episkey_"

James looked thankfully at Remus as his hand healed before his eyes. The infants slowly quietened, Jack cooing happily and Harry playing with Andromeda's hair.

"I really should get it cut" She murmured, still in residual shock.

"You can't do that!" Sirius yelped. "Long hair is tradition! It's special!"

Everyone looked at the un-silenced Black heir. James frowned.

"I thought you didn't agree with pure-blood traditions. Wait- how did you do that?!"

"But it's special!" Sirius pouted and looked remarkably like a child as he did so. The other, saner, occupants of the room noted how he refused to tell how he had dispelled the Silencing Charm without his wand, which was currently in the possession of the dust bunnies under the bed. Andromeda covered an approving smile.

There were still some family traditions they agreed with after all.

.sSs.

"Good-bye Remus."

"Bye Moony!"

Sirius waved enthusiastically as Remus walked off, even as he ignored Andromeda's disapproving glare at his public informality. As the Werewolf disappeared from sight, Sirius turned to his cousin.

"Now what?" He asked curiously, "You've been tenser than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. What's up? More visions of doom, gloom and brooms...?"

She glared at him, but didn't reply, choosing instead to stalk off in the direction of the nearest floo. He dived into the emerald flames as she stated her destination, praying he hadn't left any limbs behind at the hospital.

Sirius soon found himself tumbling ungracefully out of the fireplace onto the hearth-rug of Andromeda's living room.

"That was so not cool, cousin Siri." a violently turquoise Nymphadora announced from the doorway. Both adults looked at her sharply.

"Aren't you supposed to be in bed?"Andromeda asked, her voice cool but not unkind.

"Daddy didn't come home to tuck me in."

Andromeda pursed her lips but didn't say anything. Seeing his cousin's anger Sirius leapt to his feet.

"Well then, I guess your stunningly handsome, funny and intelligent cousin Siri will have to do it instead." Nymphadora's skin faded slightly to a pale green, while her hair underwent a dramatic change to a sunny yellow. She now bore a strange likeness to a sunflower.

"Okay!"

She chirped happily before dragging him from the room.

A few minutes later Sirius returned to the living room and threw himself onto an armchair. Andromeda sighed and conjured a tea tray, complete with kettle, cups and Ginger-Newt biscuits.

They were silent for a while before Sirius sighed.

"You really need to sort this thing out with Ted, that kid's going to mental if you don't."

Her eyes drifted towards the window, in a futile attempt to avoid the question.

"I've tried."She muttered, "I just don't know what to do anymore..."

He winced in sympathy, but didn't press the subject.

"Soooooo..... What had you all ruffled at Mungo's?" He asked, trying to change topics.

"Harry..." She replied softly, "Dumbledore is not going to be happy."

"Oh?"

She laughed bitterly, as her fingers curled tightly around her teacup.

"No one's going to be happy. Except maybe Bella."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, prompting her to continue even as he raised the porcelain teacup to his lips. She placed her own cup on the coffee-table in front of her.

"The child will be as Dark as they come, one way or another. Forced or by choice, it could go either way. They won't understand! They'll drive him as dark as Voldemort, Siri! Worse maybe, I don't know. We can't let that happen!"

She looked up to see Sirius frantically mopping at the tea on his shirt.

"Dark? Harry? Lily and James' son, Harry?"

Andromeda nodded, absently picking up Sirius's discarded cup and staring at the tea leaves.

"Yes, Harry."

"What should we do? Tell Lily and James? Warn Dumbledore? Get Mad-Eye to perform an exorcism?" He joked feebly.

Andromeda glared furiously at Sirius' teacup and ignored his attempt to lighten the mood.

"Hmph" She snorted quietly. "Why is there a curtain in your cup?"

"Meda! Head out of the tealeaves, yeah? What. Do. We. Do?"

"We can't tell anyone Siri. What do you think a member of an old Light family would do if he found out his second son could be darker than Voldemort and Grindelwald combined? If it was Jack, it might be alright as he's the heir, but when it comes down to it, Harry is a part Black spare. And Dumbledore, well, can you imagine? With his little prophecy obsession? It would be a nightmare!

"The old fool refuses to realize that prophecies aren't set in stone. This is why your curtain may or may not be the veil between worlds. It could also be that you are going to have bad taste in drapery. Either way it doesn't matter because only an idiot would want to live forever. Or choose floral curtains."

Sirius blinked.

"Harry's part Black?"

Andromeda glanced up before returning her attention to the tealeaves.

"Of course. James' mother Dorea was a Black, remember? You did listen to what I said, I hope." She twisted the cup. "A cross...you will have trails and suffering soon...but not to worry..."

Sirius wrinkled his nose, but otherwise ignored Andromeda's prediction. He bit down on the tail of a Ginger-Newt and tipped his head back.

"Sooo.... What do we do?"

"How should I know? Just watch and wait. If something disastrous happens, we pick up the pieces. What more can we do?"

"Damn, you Seers have it tough."

.sSs.

A non-eventful week passed before the happy family of four was finally discharged from the hospital. They received many visitors during their stay, including one Nymphadora Tonks, who had smuggled herself in while pretending to be an extra Weasley – namely the unmentioned female twin of Charles Weasley who looked rather like Charlie's little brother, Percy.

Under further inspection, Molly Weasley claimed that Nymphadora had been brought to the Burrow by her father, who had left the eight year old Metamorphagus there without a word to any member of the red haired clan. She hadn't realised that Nymphadora and Percy had swapped places, the third Weasley son deciding to stay at home with his father and baby siblings. Dora was a very good actress and Mrs. Weasley had been hard pressed to keep track of the three children she had with her, so she was forgiven for being unable to tell the difference between her son and the Metamorph.

"He was in a bit of a rush." Mrs Weasley told Andromeda Tonks when she came to collect her wayward daughter.

Lily and James spent an hour after Nymphadora and Andromeda had left trying to keep Sirius from hunting Ted Tonks down and bringing about the Omen of Death on the poor man. Luckily, they succeeded, and Sirius spent the next four days sleeping on Peter Pettergriew's couch mumbling about killer babies and purple spiders.

Peter's house was a heck of a lot more colorful after Sirius had left.

It should also be mentioned that Ted Tonks also visited the Potters during his own stay at the Wizarding hospital, when he was found lying unconscious in an alley two days after the incident with his daughter. The Healer's never did find a cause for the long gashes cut into Ted's torso, but they could certainly say that whoever his assailant was, they were skilled in dark magic and extremely good at memory charms. The one responsible was never found. Death Eaters were blamed.

No one is quite sure where Mr. Tonks' wife was at the time of the attack, but as Andromeda Tonks was so distressed by her husband's condition no one could bring themselves to blame her for Ted's condition. No one thought to ask if Mrs. Tonks had any connection, blood or otherwise, to any of the known dark wizards and witches. They were Aurors. They had better things to think about in this war then a man who was attacked, Obliviated, and survived to tell the tale, or to interrogate his wife. Had they actually stopped to look, they would have realised something important.

The apple never falls far from the tree.

And this tree was completely Black.

.sSs.

Lily smiled happily as she smoothed back the thin strands of black hair covering Harry's head. Over by the wall, James stared down at Jack with an expression she could only classify as sappy. Her grin widened.

"Oh, if only Sirius could see you now...The Mighty Prongs, ultimate badass, brought down by a baby."

"Lily!" James gasped. "No swearing around the babies!"

"James, I somehow doubt they're old enough to understand English."

"Yeah? Well, if my sons grow up with potty mouths, I'm blaming you."

Lily gave him a quick grin and then gently disentangled her fingers from Harry's soft hair, a very difficult task as it was so fine it clung to her fingers.

He sighed quietly and went back to sleep.

James walked over to the bright red crib and carefully placed Jack down beside his brother, avoiding the embroidered snitches whirling across the blanket. A small lion cub painted on the side of the crib tackled its sleeping companion and began to gnaw on its ears.

With a wave of her willow wand, Lily dimmed the lights and led James from the room, laughing softly. He grinned and tugged a lock of crimson hair. She stuck her tongue out at him. He kissed her.

A flash of green light downstairs stopped them in their tracks. They looked at each other before sprinting downstairs and into the living room. Seeing the bearded face of Headmaster Dumbledore resting in the fireplace, they relaxed.

"Lily? James? Hello, my dears. May I come through? Pepsy looks rather upset, is something wrong? Do you think she wants a sherbet lemon?"

"...No headmaster, I'm pretty sure she doesn't need a sherbet lemon." James said dryly. "Pepsy, why don't you go...make eggnog or something."

The small house-elf nodded and disappeared from the room with a pop, but not before sending a glare at Dumbledore's head. The Headmaster merely smiled serenely. He had made many enemies with house-elves. One more didn't faze him.

"Eggnog, Jamie? It isn't Christmas. Oh, uh, why don't you come through, sir?" Lily asked sheepishly.

"Thank you, dear girl," he replied stepping through the sickly green flames "Acid Pop?"

"No thank..."

"Thanks Sir!" James exclaimed, grabbing an electric blue sweet from the bag the headmaster offered.

"Why don't we sit down?" Lily asked, swiping the candy from James and sticking it in her mouth. The headmaster nodded and sat down in the offered armchair. Lily and James sat down on the sofa opposite.

"What brings you here, Headmaster?" James asked, still looking upset about his lost candy. Lily took his hand and gave him a quick smile around the pilfered treat. Dumbledore sobered slightly.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news and an explanation...The reason I have sent all the pregnant women in the Order into hiding recently is because of a prophecy made a few months ago by my new divination teacher. The prophecy stated that a child born 'as the seventh month dies' would have the power to defeat Voldemort."

The two Potters grinned.

"But that's terrific news, sir!"

Dumbledore smiled wanly back before growing serious again.

"Yes, it is. Unfortunately, a Death Eater heard part of the prophecy and reported it to Voldemort. Now I'm afraid with the birth of your children, Voldemort has come to the conclusion that the prophesised child will either be Jack or young Neville, who was born a day earlier. My spy informs me that He has made the death of your family the highest priority as Jack was born closest to the end of July. Each and every one of His followers is searching for you as we speak. He does not want the prophecy to come true, you see."

Dumbledore gazed over his glasses at them sadly. Lily scowled and tightened her grip on James' hand.

"Well, Fuck."

.sSs.

"A prophecy?"

"Mmmpphh"

"Ah. I see. Yes, that makes a lot of sense."

"Mmmmpphhhh!!"

"I can't understand you when you've got your face buried in a cushion, Prongsie. Sit up, drink the Butterbeer and explain."

James turned his head so he could glare at Sirius with one eye. The dog animagus just grinned and held out the glass. James sat up with a groan and took the offered drink with a muttered thanks, watching blearily as Sirius collapsed onto the couch opposite him. He sipped the fizzing liquid cautiously, not trusting Sirius not to have spiked his drink. Sirius just grinned from where he lay on the other sofa.

"Sooo...a prophecy, huh?"

James nodded mutely and lay back on his own couch. He stared at the ceiling of Sirius' flat, complete with burn marks and unexplainable paint splatters. He knew Sirius was waiting for an answer, but how do you explain something you yourself do not understand?

James realised he been silent for a moment too long when an empty mug landed on his lap.

"James Cornelius Potter! Don't just sit there and space out! Tell meeee!"

James glared and threw the cup back at Sirius. It flew over the couch and smashed into the wall. Sirius followed it path with his eyes before looking at James sadly.

"For one of Hoggy Hogwart's best chasers, that was rather pathetic, Pot of Corn Jam, old pal."

"Don't call me that! You can't even make jam out of corn!" He snapped, absently running a hand through already messy hair. "What were you yelling about?"

"The prophecy Jamesie! Tell me what the old Bumblebee told ya about the prophecy! Are we gonna kick Death Eater ass? Is the Lord of Mould gonna crash and burn? How are you going to look after Lils and the twins when you can't even cook!? I want to smell everything!"

James blinked, his brain translating Padfoot-tongue into Prongs-speak. Slowly. What was this about a prophecy...

"Wha..."

"Answer me truthfully Jamie! I want none of your ugly lies! This world must be beautiful!"

"What the hell..."

"I am an artist! A master! People write ballads about me! Poems! I even have a prophecy under my name! It goes like so-"

"THE PROPHECY!"

James sat up with a jolt, the memories of the meeting with Dumbledore flowing back into his fur-covered brain. Sirius smiled happily and clapped his hands.

"Finally! Y'know, your brain is so full of flowers and babies that you're growing immune to insanity. This is not good, Prongs. Not good at all."

James turned slowly to look at Sirius, who was practically sparkling with fake innocence. As James stared, the dog animagus casually chucked his glass over his shoulder, without breaking his overly-dazzling smile. James frowned. Sirius sparkled.

"Sirius?"

"Yes Jamesie, my unholy friend?"

"...Did you spike my drink?"

.sSs.

"And so, after a very dangerous act performed by yours truly, I managed to extract everything the old man told Lils and Jamie. I also, at risk of my life, managed to get information that Jamie didn't even know he had. Hows that for interrogation, huh?"

Andromeda rescued her bread dough from Sirius and began kneading. Sirius lent against the kitchen bench and watched as Andromeda pinched and pulled at the poor bread. At their feet, Nymphadora was waging a war between her dolls.

"What did you find out?" Andromeda asked her cousin. A glance at the clock caused her to look down at the child playing on the kitchen floor. "Dora, why don't you take your dolls upstairs now? Daddy will be home soon."

Dora nodded, and ran out the door, giggling as she dodged Sirius' foot when he tried to trip her. Andromeda placed her hands on her hips and glared at Sirius.

"Well?"

Sirius sighed and tilted his head back.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"Whatever it was is obviously important. I'm the Seer; I saw Harry's futures. Tell me. It could be the catalyst that tips him into the dark."

Sirius winced at her wording. Andromeda returned to kneading the dough. _squish._ They could hear Nymphadora playing upstairs.

"There's a prophecy." He said quietly. She shot him a sharp glance before smoothing her face into the cool mask that they'd been taught as children. Sirius copied her.

"Well? Did James tell you what it said?" Andromeda asked, her voice as soft as his. _plat _went the dough.

"The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord approaches...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the dark lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the dark lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...the one with the power to vanquish the dark lord will be born as the seventh month dies.

"That's it. Dumbledore believes that it's talking about Jack or Neville. Other then that though, the old man won't explain. Jamie was worrying too much about the children for me to get details."

Andromeda frowned. Silence fell between them as she shaped the bread dough and placed it on a tray. Sliding it into the oven, she wiped floury hands on her apron and turned to Sirius.

"This isn't good. The prophecy might not even be talking about them. In fact, if the Dark Lord doesn't hear about it at all, it could never come to pass. However, if he does..."

Sirius' expression told Andromeda everything. She sighed, hanging her apron up on the hook behind the kitchen door.

"He knows."

Sirius nodded silently. Andromeda ran a hand through her hair.

"How?"

"James said that Dumbledore knew that a Death Eater overheard part of the prophecy. We don't know which part, but I'm guessing the first. And, as it is far below our esteemed leader to Obliviate anyone, even in this situation, we can safely assume that the dark lord knows part of the prophecy and is currently hell-bent on killing off the Potters."

Andromeda groaned and pulled at her hair. Sirius watched as his cousin slashed at the air with a wooden spoon, and felt glad she hadn't picked up her wand instead. That cutting motion was generally associated with the Cruciatus curse.

"Damnit! Curse Dumbledore. You'd think, at his age, he'd know to take precautions with matters such as this...I suppose the Potters _are _going into hiding now?" She pointed the wooden spoon at Sirius. "Please say they're going into hiding, Sirius. Please say that Dumbledore has that much sense."

They both heard the front door open.

"They're going into hiding. Not at the Potter Manor, a small house in Godric's Hollow has been chosen as the hiding place. They're using the Fidelius Charm. The secret keeper will also be hidden."

Grey-blue eyes met grey-blue eyes. In the Hall, Ted Tonks was tackled by a screeching Nymphadora. Andromeda searched her cousin's eyes before nodding. The wooden spoon was lowered and placed on the bench.

"Very well."

Sirius smiled and shook his head as he followed his cousin into the hallway. He greeted a bemused Ted as Andromeda scolded Dora for making a scene. After Ted was dragged upstairs by his scarlet-haired daughter, Sirius hugged Andromeda. She stiffened slightly, before returning the gesture.

"Something bad is going to happen, Siri. I can feel it."

"We'll get through, Meda. We Blacks always do."

The stayed like that for a moment, before parting. Andromeda watched as Sirius left. She was about to close the door when he yelled back at her.

"Oh, Meda?"

"What?" She called back to the Animagus standing at her gate.

"Did I tell you that James made me Harry's godfather?"

His laugher echoed around her as he disappeared with a pop before she could reply.

.sSs.

"Hey 'dromeda." Ted said as she re-entered the house. Her face fell into a disapproving frown. She wasn't blind. She could see the lipstick smears on his shirt, she could smell another woman's perfume on him when he hugged her. Her hand drifted towards her wand before she stopped herself. She'd already sent him to hospital once because she couldn't control her temper. She didn't want to do it again. Especially with Nymphadora in the house.

Instead, she let him lead her into the lounge, pretending, once again, that she didn't see the signs.

"Who's owl is that?" Ted asked, pointing to the window. "I haven't seen it before."

Andromeda followed his gaze, before yelping. Her hand jumped to her heart and she stared at the owl in shock.

"'dromeda?"

She heard Ted calling her. She ignored him. This wasn't good.

Why on earth was Regulus writing to her?

.sSs.

_Rae: First chapter done. What do you think?_

_Mikki: If you review, you will magically find that more chapters appear. Amazing isn't it?_


	2. Letters

_We do not own Harry Potter. Sadly. JKR does. _

_Do enjoy._

_The Origins of Insanity._

.sSs.

_Dear Andromeda, _

_I hope this letter finds you and your daughter in good health. I also hope you do not destroy it on sight just because I am the one who sent it. That is the reason I send this to you and not Sirius. I fear that he sees me only as a Death Eater and a coward. _

_Yes, I am a Death Eater. I will not deny it, because it is true. And I am a coward. That too, I will not deny. But I only serve the Dark Lord so as to stay near Bella and Cissa, and to help protect them and their families. The Lestranges and the Malfoys are too close the Dark Lord, and he angers easily. I do not wish to lose my family to a raving half-blood. Nor do I wish to lose my friends. A misplaced loyalty, perhaps. Barty too, is one the dark lord's favourites. I fear I will lose all of them._

_However, I am not too proud to ask for help. And that is just what I need. I have discovered one of the dark lord's most precious secrets, the secret to what he calls his immortality. He has Horcruxes, Meda. Horcurxes in the plural. I don't know exactly how many, but his rate of deterioration suggests at least three, though I have only found one. I know where it is, but I need help. I wish to speak with you, and Sirius if he choses to come, as Blacks. No politics, I promise, just… a family reunion, if you will._

_I will not ask you to put yourself at risk, nor Sirius should you choose to divulge this information to him. I merely need your opinion. Should you wish to meet me, I will be at Borgin and Burkes at noon on Sunday 31__st__ of August. _

_I will understand if you do not come. _

_Yours faithfully,_

_Regulus Black._

Andromeda sighed, and re-read the letter that had arrived the night before. She glanced at Ted's reflection in her vanity mirror as he got ready for work. He did not know who had written the letter, and she did not plan on telling him. Idly, she traced the seal on the letter, running her finger along the banner at the base. She looked at the stone hand on her dressing-table that held her rings; on the smallest finger sat a thin silver band, with a single, small black diamond engraved with the Black family crest. She remembered when she had been given it on her fifteenth birthday, the night she'd been presented to the pureblood elite. She sighed. That was a far cry from where she was now. The animated statue of Medusa's head glared at her, the snakes hissing around the necklaces clasped in their mouths. It had been bought by an eccentric parselmouth four or five generations back and was apparently incredibly impolite. It wasn't hard to guess what it was saying about her choice of husband.

"Something bothering you, Andy?"

She glanced up and met Ted's eyes in the mirror. Did he really think she was oblivious to what he was doing behind her back? There was no love in his eyes, only mild concern.

"It's nothing. Are you doing anything on Sunday?"

He thought about it, before shrugging.

"Only the Order meeting at five. Why?"

"I need to go out. Can you look after Nymphadora? It would do her good to spend time with you. You haven't been here that often lately, and she's been asking for you."

She could see the guilt in his face. Apparently he hadn't realised his daughter would suffer while he played around with his mistress. (Of course he hadn't. He didn't _think_.)

"Of course I will. Just don't go out on your own, 'kay? I_ know_ you can look after yourself, but it'll do my heart good to know you've got someone with you."

She snorted silently. Do his heart good, her foot. She knew very well she was no longer the woman in his heart. That saddened her, but it didn't hurt as much as she had thought it would. Her family had warned her that this would happen when she'd run away to marry him eight years ago. Deep down, Andromeda knew that had she not been pregnant with Nymphadora she never would have left the Black family. She then realised Ted had been talking.

"Pardon?"

"I said, where should I take Dora when I go to the Order meeting on Sunday? I'm guessing you're going as well."

"Bring her with you. We're meeting in Headmaster Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts, he always sets up a place for the children to play during the meeting. She will enjoy seeing the Weasley children again too."

Again with the guilt. He knew it was his fault that Nymphadora had snuck into St Mungo's. He knew that Andromeda blamed him for that. He also subconsciously knew that his actions that day had been the reason behind his own hospital stay.

"Have a nice day at work dear."

With those words, she turned back to her mirror. Soon after, Ted left, obviously sensing that he had been dismissed. When she heard the front door slam shut she rose and dressed in a chocolate coloured robe and her simple amber dress with an ankle-length pleated skirt. She quickly plaited her dark hair and pulled on her heeled boots before going to see where her daughter had got to, the letter still foremost in her mind.

"Mummy!"

She smiled at Nymphadora. The child smiled cheerfully back from the doorway to her room, her currently midnight-blue hair tousled from sleep.

"Get dressed Dora. We're going to go find Cousin Siri." 

.sSs.

Peter was scared.

He was the only spy in the Order of the Phoenix for the Dark Lord at this time, and he was paranoid that Dumbledore knew where his true loyalties lay. The headmaster had hinted more then once that he suspected there was a traitor in the Order. There was so much secrecy that it almost drove Peter mad. How was he supposed to collect information if Dumbledore never called a mass meeting?

His left forearm throbbed, beating in time to his headache. It wasn't the sharp stab of a call, just a persistent ache that never truly left. He would have to go see Snape soon, the greasy git was doing a thriving trade in under the table Healing Potions, especially pain relievers.

'_Maybe before you go see Jugson, you can pick up a few more vials of Calming Draught too, so you don't panic while you betray your friends. The only people who cared about you, stood up for you, helped - NO, no, they weren't my friends! They weren't! If they were my friends they wouldn't have laughed at my mistakes, wouldn't have left me alone, would never have traded me for that mudblood bitch!'_

Peter fumbled beside him, relaxing slightly at the feel of a cool, glass vial. Uncorking it, he raised it to his lips and gulped it down. After a few minutes he slowly uncoiled from the uncomfortable ball he'd rolled into in his panic. His mind felt clear, no feelings of guilt or longing clouding his thoughts.

Peter wanted revenge.

And he was going to get it.

No matter what.

.sSs.

When Sirius Black had opened the door to his flat at nine in the morning (very early, in his esteemed opinion), he had expected to greet the visitor, receive a greeting in return and then proceed into the living room to talk with his unexpected guest. He _didn't_ expect to be jumped on by his cousin's daughter, or to watch said cousin glide into his flat like she owned it, while he struggled to get a hold on the flailing eight-year-old in his arms.

Oh well. This was Andromeda and Nymphadora. This sort of thing happened with them all the time.

"Hey, Dora, I know you love me, but mind letting me go? I'm starting to find breathing difficult."

Dora giggled, even as she released her chokehold on his neck. He put her down and followed at a more sedate pace as she scampered into the living room. Andromeda already sat there, her back ramrod straight and a steaming cup of tea in her hand. Another cup sat on the table in front of her, alongside a teapot and a plate of sugar biscuits. As Sirius sat opposite Andromeda, Nymphadora bit into a biscuit and settled down on the couch beside him, swinging her legs absently.

"Are you free on Sunday?" she asked, making the discrete signal indicating a need for secrecy.

Straight to the point, with none of the usual pleasantries? Sirius sipped his tea, delaying his answer. He'd always had trouble with the typical pureblood double-talk, and he didn't want to make a mistake in what promised to be a vitally important conversation. If Meda was willing to leave off the small talk, she was here because of something big. He placed the teacup back on the coffee-table and leaned back.

"Perhaps." He murmured with a glance at Nymphadora. _"Of course I am."_

"I find myself in search of a gift. Perhaps you could accompany me? I value your opinion." _"I need your help; we're going somewhere, but not far."_

"You flatter me. For who is this gift?" _"What are you planning?"_

"It is for a very close friend of mine whom I have not seen for many years." _"I'm meeting a member of the Black family."_

"Oh? What sort of gift were you thinking would be appropriate?" _"Who are we meeting?"_

"I believe he enjoys Potion Making and Quidditch, so perhaps something along those lines would suffice." "_Regulus, Knocturne Alley, not Diagon."_

The Animagus blinked, inwardly wondering what his favourite cousin wanted with his baby brother. Despite the majority's opinion, Sirius did not hate his brother. He could never hate Regulus. It was hard to hate someone like his brother. At least, it was hard to hate him if you were human. Sirius was sure Regulus had made more enemies out of house-elves then Albus Dumbledore. And that was saying something. He picked up his teacup, swallowing the last of the scalding liquid in a single gulp. He sent Andromeda a cocky smirk over his cup and stood up.

"Sounds interesting. I'll be there." _"When and Where."_

Andromeda nodded, and stood up as well. Her tea set disappeared with a flick of her wand. Sensing they were leaving, Nymphadora slipped off the couch and ran towards the door.

"I'll meet you in the Leaky Cauldron at noon on Sunday. Please try not to be late."

He grinned.

"I'll try."

"Mommy! Hurry up!"

Andromeda sighed and smiled at Sirius, before sweeping from the apartment. Sirius stood silently in the centre of his living room, hands stuffed deep into his pockets, and his head tipped back to stare at the ceiling. He listened to the door shutting, cutting off Dora's happy chatter almost immediately. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he picked up the letter she'd left behind.

"Regulus, huh. What are you planning now, Andromeda Black...?" 

.sSs.

"You're going WHERE?!"

"North Scandinavia, Prongs."

"WHY?!"

"Dumbledore told me about a research facility there which is trying to develop a cure for lycanthropy. They need a werewolf to help them, but there are very few who are willing to co-operate with them. I wish to help all I can, so when they approached me I agreed. Plus it will be a highly interesting academic experience."

"Yeah, but North Scandawhatsit?!"

"Is there a problem with that?"

"Yes! How long did you say you'll be gone, again?"

"One, maybe two years. Perhaps three at most."

"THREE YEARS?!"

"Yes, James. That _is _what I said."

"Have you told Padfoot about this yet? He needs to know, y'know."

"...not yet."

.sSs.

Andromeda Tonks apparated into the Leaky Cauldron at five minutes to noon looking for all the world like a pureblood woman should. Her dark hair had been pulled into a tight bun, with a few curling locks framing her face. Her make-up was perfect, subtly accenting her pale grey eyes and dark eyebrows, currently drawn into a frown. Her plum-coloured dress was simple, with a tight bodice and sleeves, scooped neckline and long flaring skirt that ended around her ankles, showing the laced up black heeled boots upon her feet. The cloak was charcoal grey, with barely noticeable black swirls decorating the hems. She wore no jewellery, except a thin silver band on her smallest left finger, a ring with a simple black diamond, which those knowledgeable about such matters would see was adorned with the Black Family crest. Her wedding ring was quite noticeably absent.

As she waited for her eternally late cousin, Andromeda pretended to ignore the suspicious gazes of the customers of the pub. She supposed her dark attire and the way she held herself made her look a lot like a pureblood dark supporter, if not a Death Eater.

Of course, there was also her close likeness to the infamous lieutenant of the Dark Lord, Bellatrix Lestrange herself.

She allowed a ghost of a smirk to cross her face when she heard one elderly witch speculate whether she was indeed Bellatrix. Holding her elder sister's reputation was...amusing. She'd forgotten just how much fun it was to play with people's fear.

At 11:58 the floo flared to life and Sirius strode out, managing to keep his footing as he exited the green flames for a change instead of flying, tumbling or on one memorable occasion, somersaulting across the room. He was obviously planning on giving Regulus a heart-attack. He'd dressed in mostly muggle clothing – tight black jeans that were ripped on both knees, loose black tee-shirt with a strange picture, probably the logo of some muggle rock-band scrawled across its chest. Two studded belts hung off his hips, and, shockingly to even her sensibilities, a spiked dog-collar was secured around his neck. He'd traded his leather jacket for a black robe, but he still hadn't managed to find better shoes then his heavy combat boots. His shoulder length black hair was loose, and he was smirking. The old lady in the corner choked on her tea.

As she watched him saunter over to her, Andromeda could hear the gossips in the pub start up again. She nodded as he drew even with her, which he returned with a lazy salute. Together, the made their way into the back courtyard, ignoring the whispers. She watched as he tapped the bricks of the portal and smiled.

"An impressive entrance, Siri. I'm almost curious as to what stories they'll make up to explain us." She murmured as she stepped through the gap in the brick wall. They turned almost immediately and slipped into one of the small lanes leading off the main alley. He flashed her a smirk as she led the way through the labyrinth of wizarding houses surrounding Diagon Alley.

"But of course. We heading down Knockturne?"

"Of course. Regulus will faint when he sees you dressed like that, you know."

"Kid'll faint anyway, just from being exposed to my awesome presence again after so long."

"If you say so. We're almost at Borgin and Burkes. Do try to act like a Pureblood, even if you don't look like one. I don't feel like being lynched this time."

"Right-o, Meda. And I do so look like a pureblood."

"You do _not._ We're here."

A dark shadow detached itself from the mouth of a nearby side street, even in the middle of the day it was as black as Kreacher's cupboard. After a few steps it resolved itself into a pale-skinned teenager dressed all in black. His hair was shorter than Sirius' but not by very much. It was however, straighter and tidier than the renegade heir's. Grey eyes swept over them, narrowing slightly at his brother's attire.

"You're late." He called. "Come on, I've reserved us a room at Nyx." He turned deeper into the small street.

Sirius looked at Andromeda; he wasn't exactly keen on following a confirmed Death Eater down a dark, deserted street under any circumstances. If Regulus' letter hadn't included a promise not to harm them then he would've cursed first, asked questions if he happened to think about it.

'_Oh well, if you can't trust family then who can you trust?'_ he wondered, conveniently forgetting all the times his family had screwed him over. Not, of course, that it had been completely one-sided. He waved Andromeda ahead and watched her back disappear within a few steps before shrugging and following her into the shadows.

.sSs.

"Fudge Flies? No, uh, Peppermint Toads? Egyptian Éclairs? Pumpkin Pasties? Oh for the love of... Toothflossing String-mints?!"

The gargoyle remained stubbornly in place. Sirius glared at it.

"How about Turkish delight?" Remus asked. The statue shook its head.

Sirius growled.

"Shouldn't I be the one doing that?" Remus asked the irate Animagus. "Blood-pops?"

"Jelly Slugs?" A familiar voice asked from behind them. The two canines turned to see Peter, just as the statue jumped aside to reveal the staircase. Sirius groaned.

"How did you do that, Pete? I've been out here for _hours _and couldn't get it right."

"Don't be ridiculous, Pads" Remus huffed. "Its only been five minutes."

Sirius grinned, before turning and bounding up the stairs. Peter blinked and looked at Remus. Remus just shrugged and gestured for them to follow the black-haired curse-breaker.

"Aww, he's so _cute_ Lils." A sickeningly sweet voice cooed insipidly. Now who could _that_ be?

A look into the office revealed a woman whose hair was more grey than brown, wearing tartan slippers and a tattered, floral patterned dress. She was bent over one of the twins (Remus thought it was Jack) with a sappy smile.

"If you ever need a babysitter..." She offered happily. Lily looked bemusedly at the woman she'd only just met.

"Ah, boys." Dumbledore called happily from in the middle of the chaos. "You're the last to arrive."

Peter looked nervous.

"So, let's begin the meeting. This is the renowned Kneazle breeder Arabella Figg. She's one of our more successful spies in the muggle world."

Peter, if possible, looked even more nervous. He'd had a rather traumatic experience with a part-kneazle in their NEWT year, Remus remembered.

"I came here straight from the Leaky Cauldron. According to Tom, two potential Death Eaters were there this morning, one wearing Muggle clothing. The other is believed to be Bellatrix Lestrange." Andromeda snorted quietly in the corner where she was standing with her husband. Ted looked at her strangely.

"This isn't a laughing matter!" He hissed quietly.

Sirius' giggles turned into full-blown cackling when he overheard Ted's comment.

Everyone turned to look at them.

"Mother would be appalled!" He managed to wheeze out. Andromeda snorted again.

"Oh, I know." She drawled.

"Is this an inside joke?" Asked Dumbledore. Sirius, who had almost managed to calm down, almost fell over in hysterics.

"Shall we get back to Arabella's report?" The two Black's nodded helplessly. Remus wondered at this strange behaviour. He hadn't thought Sirius and Andromeda were all that close.

"Anyway," the spy continued "this is highly unusual behaviour for Death Eaters, especially for Bellatrix, we must prepare for the possibility of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named openly interfering in the Muggle world."

Ted looked bitter. "Bellatrix better not interfere with the Muggle world." He growled out. Beside him, Andromeda tried to look innocent. He might have believed her if she didn't smell so nervous. Remus wondered why. Maybe he should talk to Sirius after the meeting.

.sSs.

After several hours of fruitless discussion, arguments and chaos, Remus finally got a chance to talk to Sirius as they filtered out. He seized Sirius' arm and dragged him down several flights of stairs, along eight hallways, through four and a half portraits and finally inside a life sized statue of a dragon, most likely an Antipodean Opaleye.

"Well, if you wanted to get me alone you only had to ask." Sirius purred with a lascivious smile, draping himself over Remus' shoulder. Remus pushed Sirius off, ignoring the flash of hurt this action caused him, he knew Sirius never meant anything by it (although, there _had_ been that one time in their fifth year, swiftly forgotten by them both.).

"What was going on in there?" He asked curiously. "It seemed like you and Meda knew something we didn't. Is this another family secret you can't talk about?"

"Why should I tell Moony?" Sirius asked. "Moony keeps ignoring Padfoot. Moony is even keeping secrets from Padfoot with Prongs. No, don't deny it!" He cried melodramatically. "I feel alone, unloved! I shall have to hang out with Snape! Oh, the Horror! Oh, the Grease!"

Remus blinked.

"What secrets?"

"Well if I knew they wouldn't be secrets would they?" He asked logically, it was such a contrast to his previous tone that Remus had to blink again. He knew Sirius was playing with his head, but it didn't make it any easier to deal with.

He'd been much easier to understand when they were in school. Remus couldn't help but wonder what curse-breaking had done to Sirius' brain. A niggling voice in the back of his head reminded him that this unpredictability had also begun around the time they joined the Order of the Phoenix.

Meanwhile, Sirius had begun to talk.

"Look, I'm sorry I can't tell you anything, but, you're right, it's a Family thing, and I would if I could, but it's complicated and I actually _can't."_

"Wait, as in magical oaths can't?"

Sirius' face twisted in pain.

"Murder and Mustard and _pretty_ blue _much_ Mushrooms, _yeah_."

Well, that put a different spin on things. He wanted to ask more, but when he looked at the tears glistening in Sirius' eyes he knew he couldn't.

"So, uh, how are the Cannons doing?" he asked instead.

"Great, but Moony can tell _his_ secrets, so he should."

Remus sighed. He knew Sirius was going to hate this, but he knew it was something he had to do.

"There's this group of researchers, trying to cure lycanthropy, Dumbledore told me about them, said he'd got me a place there, it might be the best chance I ever get at getting rid of this curse...But, once we get there, we can't have any contact with anyone outside the project..." He trailed off nervously.

Sirius grinned. "That's great, how long will it take?"

This was going to be the worst part. "At least a year, could be up to three."

Sirius' face fell. "Well, that's alright, I'll just manage to conveniently bump into you while you're on your lunch break or something."

"It's a secure facility in North Scandinavia." Remus let out in a rush of air. "Sorry."

Sirius looked away, but not before Remus caught a glimpse of his devastated expression. His nose tingled from the crushing wave of sadness that flowed from his friend.

After a few minutes Sirius managed to meet his eyes, looking completely unaffected. If Remus couldn't smell Sirius' pain, he would have thought the mask was real.

"Well, if you want to stop being a werewolf so much you can bear to leave my august presence, then I'm afraid I'll have to let you go, but if you change your mind I can always tie you to my bed." He joked feebly. "Just bear in mind that if you can't talk to the outside world, you can't ask for help either. You don't know what sort of whack jobs are working on this project."

Remus sighed, but gave a thankful smile. "I know, but I think I need to do this." He looked awkward for a moment. "Uh we should probably..." he gestured at the exit to their hiding space.

"Yeah." Sirius muttered. "If we aren't quick the old Bumblebee will lock the doors and then we'll never be free! There'll be detentions Moony! Detentions! I know Filch still wants to get me back for rubbing his favourite shackles with catnip." He tapped a protruding stone and walked out, heading towards the passage behind a mirror on the fourth floor, it would lead them right into Gladrag's Attic in Hogsmeade, from all the dust it hadn't been used in decades.

"Oh, and Moony?"

"Yes Sirius?"

"I have been considering words that begin with the letter 'M'; Moony and Magic and Marauders and Marriage, so here's another one, Mine."

Remus fell.

.sSs.

An ear-piercing wail shattered the fragile peace in Godrics Hollow for the fourth time in the last three hours. James was almost at the point of not caring about IMS and casting silencing charms anyway.

He knew Infant Magical Sensitivity was a serious problem, responsible for damaged magical cores, slower development and a whole host of other problems, but he just wanted to sleep!

Lily groaned, "Your turn." She pointed at the door as a second cry split the air. "Go."

James went, casting a muffling charm around the room on the way. An angry, sleep deprived Lily was a scary Lily.

Harry was easy to settle down, finding it more amusing to poke his father in the eyes in protest over his rude awakening.

Jack however, was a different story. By the time James had managed to make him stop crying it was 4:28 in the morning and Jack had been crying non-stop for almost four hours. According to Lily and three different employees at Saint Mungos, Jack had colic.

He glared at his peacefully sleeping wife and dismantled the muffling charm. At least it was her turn now.

He almost cried when he realised he had a sexual harassment seminar in three hours.

.sSs.

_Rae: Ohmehgawd, this took forever to write. D: _

_Mikki: So, what do you think? If you review we will love you forever and ever and ever._

_Oh, yeah, this will have slash eventually. We'll add a warning at the start of the next chapter, as well as a possible pairing list, once we make up our minds. Maybe. If you're lucky, and you review._


	3. Trick or Treat?

**_Warning, Warning. There Will Be Slash! Warning!_**

_If we owned Harry Potter, it would probably have never been finished, or at least would have taken a lot longer. Sorry for the delay. RL has been rather like being caught in the middle of a MWPP & Weasley Twin Prank War._

_Possible Pairings-any of which could change at any moment based on the plot and the authors' whims, remember that this story is rated T for teen, not M for mature, the authors are both hard out slashers, please read the label and use only as directed._

_Sirius/Remus, _

_Barty/Regulus_

_Bella/rod_

_All others are as malleable as string. And string is pretty malleable.  
_

_._sSs_._

"Please Peter," James pleaded. "You're our secret keeper, you have to! It's not like we can advertise for a baby sitter in the Prophet!"

"What about Sirius?" Peter asked, as he had every other time they'd tried to get him to spend time with the bratlings.

"He's the one taking us to the Harpies match!"

_'Damn, don't they realize I'm trying to _save _their brat's lives?' _Peter thought grumpily, before realizing exactly what he had just thought and inwardly berating himself. He wasn't trying to save the Potter children; he was going to send them to their deaths any day now!

"Uh, Dumbledore?" he tried. A scandalized look answered him. He couldn't blame James, he wouldn't leave his kids (If he had any) with Dumbledore either. The old man was _scaary._ His left arm twinged slightly and the painful reminder of his loyalties erased his resistance.

"Fine, I'll do it." He sighed. _'And at least you'll be out of the house. If only the mudblood could stay behind...'_

"Great!" James said, grinning from ear to ear. "If you need any help, just ask Pepsy. She'll be honoured to help, but she _is _a little busy at the moment, don't ask what, she'll just push you down the stairs. I think she's seeing a handsome boy-elf..."

James trailed off, a disembodied hand scratching his head. Peter grimaced at the images that thought conjured up. No house elf was _handsome._

Ever.

No matter what Regulus said.

"Great, so we'll see you tonight. 4:00, don't forget!" James said and pulled his head back out of Peter's floo before Peter could reply.

The rat Animagus sighed gloomily.

"Yeah, whatever." He said to the empty fireplace.

He picked up a quill and found a scrap of parchment, and began to write the three words that would condemn his first friend (and his family) to death.

Jugson,

It's time.

_._sSs_._

When Peter floo'd into the living room of number 31 Alex Street, Godrics Hollow at four o'clock that evening he promptly tripped over McGoogles. The kneazle kitten hissed and dug its long claws into Peter's shin. He yelped and glared at the grey fuzz ball on the hearth rug, who yawned widely.

The damn cat was (yet) another reason he tried to avoid the Potter household.

Peter looked around and made sure he was alone. Then, he drew back his foot and kicked at the annoying feline. He missed. McGoogles decided discretion was the best part of valour and rolled over to clean herself.

Just as he was considering a more...unpleasant way of dealing with the cat, Evans decided to make her appearance. Even Peter had to admit she looked stunning, but quickly followed that up with the reminder that she was the reason his friends had all abandoned him. Even evil could be beautiful it seemed. And Lily was definitely evil.

He watched as she pulled her polyjuiced blonde hair up into a pony-tail and smiled at him. He attempted to smile back but was fairly certain it looked more like a grimace. Thankfully she'd stopped trying to hug him. He didn't know how much more he could deal with. Before the silence could become too awkward, James barrelled into the room panting and looking nervous.

"Quick! Let's go, don't give them a chance to wake up." He whispered to Evans who grinned.

"Alright, Pete. Don't forget, if there's a problem, talk to Pepsy. Sirius doesn't want us to come home until midnight, so you're on your own. Good luck!"

With that, he took Lily's hand and threw some powder on the floo. Before Peter had a chance to say anything, they were gone.

As he gaped at the fireplace, he heard a thud, a shriek and then a loud cry.

'_This is going to be a long night.'_

.sSs.

When one thought of dramatics and its place in life, a meeting between the Darkest Wizard of all time and his most loyal followers was as far down the list as possible.

'_And yet,_' Regulus thought wryly, _'the meeting could have given Shakespeare a run for his money.'_

He twisted the obsidian and gold cuff-link on his right sleeve absently, only half listening to Kakaroff as he ranted on about… something (Regulus didn't know what exactly, except that it involved a lot of arm-waving). Catching the worried look Bellatrix tried (and failed) to hide, he stilled his fidgeting, which in turn caused his thoughts to wander, this time bordering on treachery.

Andromeda thought – no - knew that the Dark Lord would soon fall. She had Seen it. He had only heard from his disowned cousin and renegade brother a few times since that first meeting in Knocturne Alley, as they did not want to attract the attention of either side. Andromeda said they had to watch and wait, so that was what they did.

But seriously, (no name pun intended) he didn't think he could wait much longer. The horcrux had been located and studied, the house elves hated his guts, his mother was about to kick him out of the Black manor and several small fluffy animals had died, but he still wasn't allowed to destroy it. Andromeda had ordered him not to look for the others.

Scary woman that she was, he'd obeyed.

"Regulus,"

The youngest Black turned at the chilling voice of the Dark Lord, trying hard not to tense. He knew that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was an accomplished legilimens, but that still required eye contact, so the youngest Black kept his eyes trained on Voldemort's receding hairline as he answered.

"My Lord?"

"We were just discussing your brother, Regulus. Tell me, do you… admire his unorthodox fighting style? He's become quite famous in some circles."

The Dark Lord asked him in what appeared to be a possible attempt at normal conversation. Regulus resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

'_I'm sorry Sirius, and my apologies to the English language. I'm about to get purebloody.'_

"Brother, milord? I don't know which brother it is you speak of. I had a brother once, its true. But that brother died six years ago. I am in no way related to the man who calls himself Sirius Black."

A cold smile spread across the Dark Lord's gaunt face (still no name pun intended) as scattered almost hysterical laughter rose up from the other masked occupants of the room. Voldemort looked up as if he were about to speak (maybe to tell his minions to _shut up!_) when the distinctive whip crack of an incoming apparition split through the air. A new Death Eater appeared in the cavernous ballroom of the LeStrange Manor. He hurried forward and knelt at the Dark Lord's hem. After a few moments, the Dark Lord ordered him to rise and report, a disturbing smirk on his face.

'_We are sorry to report that you have just exceeded your yearly smugness quota,' _Regulus thought mockingly. _'Honestly, a real Dark Lor-_'

"-Potters have been found, milord."

'_WHAT?'_

.sSs.

Seven simultaneous cracks resounded throughout the empty alleyway. The snivelling rat, trembling as he had been for the past seventeen-and-a-half minutes, led them out onto the nearly deserted street where only a few lingering children remained outside, giggling over sweets and dressed in odd costumes.

Humph. Muggles had no respect for Halloween.

They hurried through the small village. Peter had told them all the secret, _'The Potters can be found at the end of Alex Street',_ but the apparition wards covered this half of the village and if they'd come in inside them Dumbly Door would have been there in an instant with a big bang and some coloured smoke.

'_Or maybe not, Regulus said he'd found a prophecy. If he's trying to encourage it he might just abandon the Potters to their fate.' _She reflected in one of her more... rational moments, before pouting.

She liked coloured smoke. The Dark Lord didn't though, so she hardly ever got to see and/or use it. Sirius did. Perhaps she should have joined his side?

Oh well.

Maybe next time.

One by one, they passed under the last amber street light. First the Dark Lord, his scaly skin shimmering slightly in the harsh glare. She could recommend a good moisturiser to fix that. Then Barty, their wards expert. Her precious ickle protegee, sticky-up hair and all. '_And if he starts acting like a wizard worthy of his sorting, a possible cousin in law.'_

Rodolphus and Rabastan followed, making discrete, yet forceful gestures, obviously debating something fiercely and silently. Kinda creepy, that. Although, she was used to it. She lived with them after all. The rat was next, looking anxious, as he should; he knew he would be executed instantly if he led them into a trap. She had to wonder why he was included, everyone else was Inner Circle. Maybe He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named needed comic relief? Or stress relief? Her expression froze. Eww. Metal images!

'_Like one of those squeezy things the Muggles play with,'_ She corrected herself quickly.

Lucius was, of course, right behind Peter, wand poking slightly through his cloak, aimed at the rat's back. Wisps of distinctive blond hair escaped around his pale mask. It was no wonder half the Wizarding World thought her sister was also marked, cloaked and masked.

Even she might have made that mistake.

Maybe.

Just the once.

Of course, half the wizarding world though Cissy was naturally blonde. Really. Metamorph genes were in their blood, no thanks to their mother. Where did people think ickle Nymphie Dora got it from? The Mudblood? Honestly.

She followed a few paces behind, idly switching between mimicking Lucius' determined stride and attempting to master Snape's Swirling Stalk™. It wasn't going well. She just couldn't get quite the right level of swish to her robes. Maybe they needed to be made of a different material. Hm. She'd have to take a closer look next time she saw the Potion's master.

After a few minutes, she spun around to check behind them. None of her sense enhancing charms were picking up anything, but she took her assignment seriously.

No one would be sneaking up on her!

Satisfied, she continued on.

After an age, they arrived at the active wards. Unlike the passive Anti Apparition and Magic Detection wards which surrounded most of the village but only monitored, reported and occasionally prevented certain actions, these wards could activate, incarcerate, alert, and even attack anyone not keyed in or who didn't meet certain criteria or acted in a certain fashion.

People a lot like them, actually.

She'd heard Barty telling Regulus once _(and wasn't their flirting strange?)_ about an ancient ward often cast on Muggle churches which used to strike 'sinners' with lightning.

How it knew who to target was beyond her but Barty had seemed impressed.

Much like he was now, actually.

Maybe she should pay a little more attention.

"Milord, even though it may not appear that way, I am making progress. You must remember these are very advanced wards, supposed to keep even yourself out. Possibly especially yourself out. I'm picking up traces of Dumbledore's magical signature, especially on the Fidelius Charm…Ah, here we are…"

Bellatrix could see that the Dark Lord looked distinctly unimpressed. He did not like being ignored or ordered about by his subordinates and if Barty wasn't so essential to whatever it was they were doing he would probably already be under the cruciatus. Unimaginative, amateurish curse that it was. Oh, it was fun, yes, but to never use anything else? The Arte of Torture should be simple after all. Like cheering charms. Taught in third year at most schools, and horribly effective.

"Two weak life signs…the Potters left…Maybe an hour ago?" BC Junior muttered, more to himself then any of the clocked figures surrounding him.

"For a Quidditch match, Master, Black took them; they aren't going to come home until at least midnight. I'm supposed to be babysitting. I came straight to tell you of course. The brats are in the nursery upst-"

The rat screamed suddenly in the middle of his sentence. Bella jumped, and then looked around guiltily. No one had seen her? Other then her husband?

Good.

"Silence!" The Dark Lord hissed, holding the cruciatus. _'Humph. Plebeian.' _

The air glowed gold for a moment, distracting Voldemort and making him drop the curse.

'_Ooh, shiny!' _Bella mocked silently before freezing mid-thought_, 'Oh Salazar's Serpent! I'm starting to sound like Regulus!'_

"Milord?" Barty murmured quietly into the startled silence. "I believe I've managed to make some progress. I've found a list of approved magical signatures and should be able to convince the wards to accept us in their place. If you could come and stand here?"

He pointed at a space a few feet in front of the wards. Once the Dark Lord was positioned to Barty's satisfaction,_ 'and his wand must be sparking over that,'_ Barty waved his wand in a slow, graceful arc, muttering in a language she didn't know and was willing to bet no one else present did either. It sounded Greek. Or Welsh. She didn't know Welsh.

Barty obviously did though.

After an age, an image formed of a glorious phoenix and the wards made a skin chilling wail. She was shocked to realize it was phoenix song and tears of grief and remorse formed in her eyes. Then, the song stopped and she snapped out of it, thankful that her mask concealed her face even as hot tears tracked down her cheeks.

The Dark Lord looked enraged, but there was something almost panicked in his eyes. She wondered why. The other Death Eaters were probably doing the exact same thing as herself; drawing on a lifetime of training in concealing their emotions and thanking some long dead personage for the aid provided by their masks.

Except, she noticed, for the rat. He was curled up on the ground, shaking and whimpering.

Silly, silly, Peter.

"What happened." The Dark Lord asked in that odd way of his which somehow turned questions into demands. Or statements. Or both!

Barty shook himself slightly. "Sorry, milord. I… didn't expect that. It was the wards reorienting. Uhm, you've been accepted, which is good... I just don't know what happened there. I think it was localized, definitely not an alarm, so that's good, um…"

He trailed off and peered closely at the empty air, where she assumed he could see something in the wards.

"I don't think I should do that again though. Sorry, milord, but I don't want to risk alerting anyone to our presence."

The Dark Lord glared, but when Barty didn't change his opinion, turned to the rat, who was still curled up on the floor.

"Rise, Wormtail." He hissed. Pettigrew stood up shakily, and quickly knocked back a lumpy grey potion (that looked _ick)_ from a small vial. After a few moments he stopped trembling and straightened slightly. The Dark Lord stepped through the wards and gestured for the snivelling rat to follow. Bella pouted. She'd wanted to see the pretty babies before the Lord Snake-Face (She wasn't feeling especially charitable today) blew them to dust.

Stupid Snake-Face.

.sSs.

Peter stared at the photo on the wall morosely. The occupants of the photo ignored him. Damn them, he thought sourly. They didn't understand.

"It's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault..."

He repeated his mantra over and over under his breath even as he cowered against the wall. His master's voice drifted into the corridor outside the nursery and Peter whimpered, curling up into a ball.

"It's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault..."

Green light flashed from under the nursery door, lighting up the corridor with an eerie glow. Peter yelped and covered his eyes as a baby's plaintive wail rose up. The calming drought had long since worn off (_But it shouldn't have, he'd only taken it fifteen minutes prior, could he be building up a resistance? Should he ask Snape for something stronger?)_ and he couldn't stop shaking.

A loud noise tore through the air and a huge wave of hot air and magical sparks of sickly green and white hit him. Peter, in blind panic, forgot about the wards guarding the Potter residence, and fled.

On the wall the Marauders waved and smiled from their frame.

.sSs.

Regulus silently cursed his damn brother to the seventh layer of hell and back. Why didn't the idiot take the Potters for pizza or something?

Why a _Quidditch match?_

He ran through the crowds of half-drunk commoners, ignoring the yelps of protest as he shoved them out of his way. With a growl he pushed yet another tipsy witch out of his path and allowed his form to shift in mid-stride. A sleek black cat sped through the space between the crowd's feet, biting and swiping at any limb that got in his way.

Soon enough he spotted Sirius through the tangled forest of legs and feet in his way. He once more thanked whatever deity had gifted him with his Animagus form – cats were one of the few non-magical animals that could see magic in its raw form, making the search for Sirius an easier task, due to the renegade Black's rather...unique magical signature.

Regulus increased his speed. Warning Sirius of the Dark Lord's plans was top-priority. Regulus could only hope Barty and Bella would remember what he told them and get themselves and the others to safety _before_ Godric's Hollow was flooded with people from the Ministry and the Order.

And as Sirius was vital to their continued safety, Regulus had made it his duty to make sure his brother wasn't arrested along with the rest of them, for _any_ reason.

Still, it would have been nice _not_ to have to claw his way through a crowd of drunken idiots.

.sSs.

Lily Potter was, for once, actually enjoying the match that was playing out in front of her. She was well aware she didn't understand Quidditch very well, and she definitely couldn't follow a conversation about the sport between, say, Sirius and James, but that was only because she didn't understand the complexities of the game that men seemed to find highly important. It was still quite interesting to watch the athletic men and women play.

Now only some bright muggle-born would "invent" the television, and she would be able to watch it at home instead of gallivanting across the countryside to stand in a crowd of drunken warlocks.

Beside her Sirius had begun a long-winded commentary on how the other team (Some team wearing purple) failed in Quidditch, life, and everything. It reminded her exactly why the Black had been the commentator at Hogwarts for almost five years.

Sirius had talking down to an Art.

She sent him a fond smile, before turning to her husband, only to find him…Singing? Chanting? She wasn't quite sure, but she decided it was smarter to leave him to it.

No need to get involved in idiocy.

With an amused sigh, Lily turned back to the game, even as her thoughts turned, as they often did, to her children. Were the boys alright? Peter had babysat for them before, but never for this long. She hoped neither baby had woken up – They didn't seem to like Peter that much (she didn't either, but he was James' friend, and she would be polite). The rat Animagus would have a horrible time getting them back to sleep if they did wake.

Jack would be the easiest for Peter to settle, she reflected. Now that he was over the colic of his first few months, he was the more restful of the two. Harry however, seemed to come up with ways to annoy everyone around him in his sleep. If Harry woke up he would have Jack and McGoogles the kneazle kitten in a fit and Peter would be missing more then a few chucks of his hair before Harry even _considered_ sleeping again.

For Peters sanity, she wished Harry a deep and peaceful sleep with no interruptions.

She felt the rush of warmth she felt when she thought about her family and smiled. She was really, really glad she'd agreed to let James take her on that date in seventh year. Now she had a brilliant husband and two gorgeous babies (which was far more then Petunia had – Lily _had_ seen Vernon and Dudley Dursley). She only hoped her parents would have been proud.

"Damn cat!"

Lily blinked. That was definitely not what she expected to hear at a Quidditch match. It appeared the boys had also heard the odd comment, as they all turned to look behind them just in time to see the black cat rushing towards them morph into the form of nineteen-year-old Regulus Black.

Suddenly Lily found an arm wrapped around her waist and James' wand aimed at the youngest Black's heart. Lily now saw the black robes Regulus wore, robes most commonly associated with Death Eaters. She reached swiftly for her own wand, but Sirius' hand blocked hers.

"Cool it, Prongs, Lily-flower." The dog Animagus said softly, his eyes locking with James'. "Let's see what he has to say."

James stared at Sirius for a moment before nodding tensely and stepping back. Lily noticed that he didn't return his wand to its sheath at his hip. Slowly, so not to let any of the men see, she drew her own wand and stashed it in her sleeve.

Lily watched as Sirius turned back to his younger brother who had watched the exchange between James and Sirius in silence. To her, it looked as if Sirius had become a completely different person. His grey-blue eyes were narrowed, his expression neutral but still aloof. His posture had straightened and he now held himself in a way that suggest he was superior to everyone in the general vicinity and beyond. Lily remembered the way Rodolphus LeStrange or Lucius Malfoy had held themselves in the few times she had seen them since leaving Hogwarts. She was reminded, for the first time since she met Sirius, that behind the playful and mischievous nature he showed the world, Sirius Black was still the heir of one of the oldest pureblood wizarding families in Britain.

"Regulus," Sirius' voice was still soft, a stark contrast the yelling masses surrounding them. Regulus nodded. He seemed tense, Lily noted, like he was in a rush. That probably didn't mean good.

"Sirius. I had to tell you...there is a traitor, the Dark Lord...the secret has been told, the Dark Lord is heading to Godric's Hollow as we speak...The prophesy..."

Lily's mind skidded to a halt.

Her babies. Voldemort was after her babies, and now he knew where they were. He wanted to _kill_ her children. She had to protect them!

It was only James hand gripping her arm that stopped Lily from disapparating straight away. His entire body had tensed and he was staring at Regulus in horror.

"Are you sure?" He practically hissed. Regulus stared at him steadily. When he replied his tone was the same chilling softness Sirius had used.

"I would never lie to the Lord Black."

Lily let out a long breath she hadn't even realized she was holding.

"Fuck this! True or not, we've got to go! _Now_, James!" she practically shrieked, causing more the a few heads to turn in their direction. James grimaced, before looking at Sirius. He had his eyes closed, but seemed to feel their impatient glares as the lids covering his stormy irises snapped up and he gave them a derisive nod.

"Go!" He snapped.

The last thing Lily saw of the Quidditch pitch was the icy eyes of the two Blacks staring straight at her with something that Lily realized was pity shining out from the blank façades. Then a jerking motion pulled at her and with a crack she was gone.

.sSs.

Ted Tonks had many places he would prefer to be then in the living room of his small house, sitting in the awkward silence of his living room with his wife.

Most of them included his lovely Olivia, but he found himself too scared of his wife's reaction to seek out his mistress this night.

Andromeda had refused to talk to him since he'd let Dora go Trick or Treating with the muggle-born magical children next door. Now as they waited for Dora to return, Andromeda sat in her favoured armchair with a ramrod straight back and a heavy tome in her lap. She'd made her disapproval of his choice obvious, and he'd felt so uncomfortable with the tension between them that he hadn't had the courage to leave the room, let alone the house.

He was reasonably sure he should confront her on the way she was raising their daughter, as it unfortunately reminded him of the more...pureblood customs. However, he was afraid of giving Andromeda an opportunity to question his increasing absence from his daughter's life.

There _was_ a reason why Andromeda had been sorted into the same house as her sisters, after all.

He was staring absently at the lace patterns on the table cloth when a sudden rustling caused him to look up. Andromeda had made her way to the window and was gazing out. At first he thought that she had heard Dora's return, but then he realized that that particular window didn't look out onto the street.

"...'dromeda?" He asked softly. The light from the fireplace caused shadows to fall on the dark-clad woman in the corner and Ted felt a sudden chill as pale grey-blue eyes looked frostily through him.

This was not the woman he married.

This was Andromeda Black, a woman he hardly knew, a woman he'd never _wanted_ to know.

"It has begun."

Ted Tonks shivered.

.sSs.

_Thanx to everyone who is reading this fic. your reviews make us write even more. we will love you forever if you just drop us a word, seriously. You will get virtual cookies and milk and chocolate and coffee and sherbet lemons (Which this one has actually eaten. Dumbly Door's obsession is justified). we're afraid we have nothing else to bribe all the darling readers with. Hopefully you will all review anyway._

_Oh! _

_We, being the brilliantly fantastic lunatics that we are, have made an LJ account. Unfortunately, the hopeless one who is writing this AN has forgotten what the account name is. The other one knows, so she will make sure that this awe-inspiring news is included in the next chapter. Hopefully by that time there will actually be something on our LJ for all you terrific readers to, well, read. _

_The other one** cannot** yell at this hopeless case for forgetting the LJ account's name, as she did not specify what this one was supposed to write in the AN. All blame is suitably shifted. XD  
_

_Hugs and kisses,_

_~ Origins of Insanity_

_P.S. We promise there will be more chapters soon, and that we will try our damn hardest to make sure you don't have to wait this long again. Maybe. _

_P.P.S. __ The hopeless one is Rae. She is responsible for any errors in any of the above text. Especially any unexplained 34's. Don't ask, we don't know either.  
_

_P.P.P.S. Review, duckies, Review.  
_


	4. Explosions

**Black madness**

**Disclaimer: **_You don't want to see what HP would be like if it had been ours. No, that's not true. You're reading what HP would be like if we owned it. so, quite obviously, we don't own it. _

.sSs.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

Barty Crouch jr stood slightly apart from the others but not far enough to escape the soft swish of robes and murmured whispers. He knew the others were getting restless, and he couldn't blame them. Ten minutes had past since the Dark Lord had entered the Potter residence and they had not seen hide nor hair of him since. While their Lord liked to draw out his kills, there was only so much you could do to kill two infants.

They hadn't even seen the tell-tale flash of green that followed the killing curse.

Barty sighed, and looked down at his watch (Swiss, squib-made, but very, very accurate). Fifteen minutes. Should he attempt to enter the wards again?

A sharp intake of breath from behind him caused his head to jerk up. The familiar green light pulsed from an upstairs window – the silhouette of the Dark Lord stark against the blinding light.

Then the unthinkable happened.

As the Death Eaters watched, the green light seemed to be drawn back into the room, as if it was being absorbed by something (or Some_one_). There was a moment in which everything stopped and Barty could just hear the faint wail of a child in the darkness.

Then the magical shock-wave hit him.

Barty raised his arms to cover his face, stepping back against the onslaught of hot air and magical sparks. The imprint of green and white sparks flashed against the back of his eyelids. Forcing his eyes open just enough to see, he squinted into the storm. Rubble and debris from the upper-floor of the house flew past him, intermingled with waves of raw magic. He could just make out the silhouette of the Dark Lord standing tall in the eye of the storm.

But as Barty watched, the shadowed figure crumpled and the shape folded in on itself. Barty watched in two parts horror and one part curiosity the figure of his Lord decreased into a barely visible shadow not one quarter the size of its original form.

Barty blinked.

The figure was gone. Barty could only guess that it (For it was no longer a person, let alone the Dark Lord they so admired) had been blown away by the shock-wave.

The wave of magical power faded out. Barty slowly lowered his arms from in front of his face, eyes wide even as thin hair-line cracks ran across his mask and it crumbled from his face.

_'That can't have been good.'_

.sSs.

Narcissa Malfoy was _not_ having a good day.

She'd been rushing around since seven that morning, attending five different Halloween celebrations (for almost every meal or snack of the day), smiling falsely and enduring (and returning) every insult hidden in polite conversation. Lucius had left her side around noon to deal with something that was not her concern. Bella had popped in at one point, eaten everything sweet in sight, sculled three bottles of butterbeer and left without a word. Draco had been fussing and if Fenrir Greyback thought he could camp out in her living room for one more night she wasn't going to be responsible for her actions.

Technically she should still be out, at the Parkinson's Halloween Party, but she had pled her excuses ("Please forgive my absence, but I have an infant son to care for and I feel I have ignored him too long this day.") and left early.

The youngest of the Black sisters sighed, letting go of her perfect exterior for a moment and slumping in her armchair. She wished Lucius was there. They may not be a...romantically inclined couple, but he was still her best friend and one of the few people outside of her blood family that she truly trusted. _He_ didn't expect her to be perfection incarnate.

Sometimes she hated the Dark Lord. Because of him, everyone she cared for was in constant danger.

Narcissa let her eyes drift closed.

The pale lids snapped open again.

She had left her chair and was hurrying up the stairs when the house-elf that had been tidying up Draco's toys popped in beside her and squeaked that the young master was awake.

"Thank you, Trancy." She said distractedly, '_of course he's awake, silly elf! I could hear his cries!'_

Narcissa knew that her choice to raise her child herself without leaving him to the house-elves was odd in the circles she frequented. She herself had been practically raised by her sisters. She didn't want Draco to grow up hating her and Lucius in the way she had hated her parents.

Without Bellatrix and Andromeda, Narcissa knew she would have been nothing more then a prettily painted doll like many of the pureblood women of her generation.

More then anything, Narcissa was afraid Draco might respond to such treatment in the way Sirius had.

She couldn't stand the thought of her baby running away from her.

The Lady Malfoy pushed open the doors to her son's nursery. The blond infant was standing in his crib, face scrunched up into a wail. She was at his side in an instant and had hoisted him up onto her hip. She cooed softly and bounced him gently as he cried.

"It's alright, shh shh, it's alright, it's alright, shh..."

She smiled slightly as he quieted slowly and kissed his nose.

"Now, what was that about, Darling?"

She asked him. He giggled wetly and curled chubby arms around her neck as she tried to put him back in his crib. She exhaled with a smile and cuddled him closer. The small moment between mother and son was interrupted as a house-elf wearing a dirty pillow-slip appeared at the door.

"Mistress?" He squeaked, bowing repeatedly in the direction of the Lady Malfoy. He had been in the Malfoy family for a long time and constant abuse had cowed him. Narcissa didn't like physical violence and had chosen to treat her servants with distant politeness. Dobby still seemed scared of her though. Maybe it was her relation to people like Bella and Sirius, who used house-elves as victims for prank-testing, or Regulus, whose experiments didn't bare thinking about.

She didn't know.

She just liked to push the blame onto her more insane relatives.

"Yes Dobby?" she sighed, wishing he would just get to the point without all the kowtowing. It got annoying after a while.

"There is a guest for you, mistress. Trancy is showing hers to the parlour now."

Narcissa frowned. A guest, this late? Most of her acquaintances would either be at the Parkinson's party or at the Dark Lord's side. She sighed (She seemed to be doing that a lot recently) and untangled Draco from her hair, tucking him back into bed. Kissing his forehead, she left the room, dimming the lights with a swish of her wand.

"Who is our guest, Dobby?" She asked the house-elf cowering in her shadow as she walked purposefully down the hall. Dobby's voice wobbled as he exclaimed that he didn't know. With yet another sigh she dismissed the elf with a request for tea and biscuits to be brought to the parlour.

As the elf disappeared, she paused at a mirror and straightened her dress, cleaning up the wet patch on her shoulder from where Draco had drooled on her. Concentrating, she watched in the mirror as her hair tied itself into a bun at the base of her neck and faded from her natural dark brown to the pale blonde she wore in public. With another thought her skin changed to match her preferred make-up scheme and the slight bruises of fatigue had disappeared from under her eyes. Happy with her appearance (and thanking whatever deity had thought to make her a Metamorph) she made her way down the stairs to the parlour door.

She placed the perfect smile onto her face – not too wide, not too small, so not to insult her guest – and pushed open the door.

"I am sorry for making you wait. I was not expecting you." she said to the woman sitting at her parlour table. The dark-haired woman turned and matched her smile with one of her own. Narcissa's eyes widened fractionally.

"That it quite all right. I should have called ahead." Andromeda murmured. "It's good to see you, little sister."

.sSs.

Even Death Eaters could be shocked it seemed. Rabastan LeStrange certainly felt shocked. He could only remember one other time his shock levels had been anywhere near the level they were now and that was when he had accidentally walked in on Bella and Rod doing...you know.

He had been shocked then and he was _definitely _shocked now.

What the _fuck_ had just happened?

Rabastan slowly lowered his arms from where they had been shielding his face from the blast. He could feel parts of his mask crumbling and falling away and his head was splitting from the onslaught of raw magic. He only hoped he didn't look as bad as he felt.

Damn.

A moan from his left caused him to look over to where Lucius was leaning against a street-lamp. He was looking distinctly ruffled. The Malfoy's mask and hood had fallen off and the pale blond hair he was so famous for was all messed up. A trail of crimson blood ran from his temple and down his cheek, stark against Lucius' overall paleness. Rabastan sent him a smirk and in a moment of childish maturity, stuck out his tongue.

Lucius _glared._

Turning away from the indignant lord, Rabastan searched out his elder brother. Rodolphus was steadying a dizzy Bellatrix, who was clinging to her husband's neck for support and looking more then a little worse for wear. His far-too-skinny brother didn't look as if he was faring much better. They had both lost their masks. Rabastan knew that on any other occasion both Bella and Rodolphus would have been in hysterics by now. Bella was already giggling quietly.

He'd never understood why everyone around him was always so_ mad. _

Satisfied that the other three were in some semblance of okay Rabastan turned to the only one of the black-clad quintet that had any chance of knowing what had just happened.

Barty was still standing slight apart from the rest of them. He ignored Rabastan when he called the younger wizards name, choosing instead to continue to stare at the Potter residence in horror. The youngest of the Lestranges felt the other three draw up beside him as he followed Barty's gaze. On his left, Lucius inhaled sharply.

"Oh sweet Salazar..." Bella murmured softly, her pale eyes wide. Rabastan had to agree with her.

Most of the ground floor of the house was still standing, but only just. The glass in every window had been shattered. The walls of the top floor, along with the roof, had been almost completely blown apart, the rubble and shingles scattered across the lawn. But that wasn't what had the five Death Eaters so shocked. They had destroyed houses and hilltops and everything in between for the dark lord. Destroyed houses were nothing to them. However...

They had never seen something like this.

Magic in its purest form pulsed and flowed in and around the house. Curtains of white and green light cascaded from crumbling walls, while smaller sparks of gold and red drifted over the decimated building. The Death Eaters stared at the raw magic as it lit up the street in awe. The small part of the Rabastan's mind that wasn't in total shock wondered why the population of Godric's Hollow (both magical and muggle) hadn't noticed the exploding house, or the magical aftermath.

Barty's muted swearing knocked Rabastan out of his stupor. The Crouch Heir lowered his wand and looked back at them with a grim expression.

"Pettigrew set off the alarms. We need to go, now!"

Lucius and Rodolphus looked undecided. Rabastan just wanted to leave before the Aurors arrived, but he knew what was on his brother and cousin's minds.

"What about the Dark Lord?" Lucius asked. Bella shook her head, the dark curls escaping their clasps.

"If he needs us, he'll come find us. We won't be any use to his cause in Azkaban!" She growled. Her eyes were still wide, but Rabastan could see the panic that had seeped into the grey-blue irises. Whatever had just happened had shaken her, and that in itself was enough to freak _him _out. Bellatrix didn't scare easily.

Time to scarper.

"Why don't we...reconvene at the Malfoy manor?" He murmured quickly. "That way, if any Aurors were to visit, we can claim that we had met for a Halloween dinner. They can't single us out, everyone in Britain is doing the same."

Bellatrix and Rodolphus shared a glance before nodding. Rabastan wasn't sure whether their agreement was over his logic or the chance to raid the Malfoy's pantry and/or wardrobe, but he supposed it didn't matter.

Barty coughed slightly, drawing the group's attention to him.

"I'll go home – my mother can provide an alibi. I'll stop by the LeStrange manor and make sure there aren't any others still lurking there from the meeting earlier. Just in case."

The others nodded their agreement. Lucius still looked nervous about leaving without their lord but the faint crack on an incoming apparation apparently made up his mind.

They left.

.sSs.

Barty watched as the LeStrange brothers and Lucius disapparated. Bella hovered, obviously trying to decide something. She suddenly twirled around and flung a curse at the nearest street-lamp, causing it to blow with a shower of sparks and flood the area around it (including where they were standing) with shadows. She passed a conjured white mask to him, fitting her own onto her face. Barty mentally shrugged and took the mask, too used to Bella's odd ways to protest. They both lifted up their hoods, cutting off their identities from any prying eyes.

_'After all, it wouldn't do for someone to recognize us' Barty_ thought dispassionately. _'I'm the perfect genius son of their precious head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, their Minister for Magic-to-be, vicious, arrogant bastard that he is. And Bella's the Lady LeStrange, an elite (and high-profile) member of the high-class, pureblood gentry. If we were caught...'_

"Oi!" Bella said, snapping her fingers in front of Barty's nose and interrupting his train of though. He blinked and refocused on her.

"Why are you still here?"

"Why are you?"

Ha. Good Question. One point to Barty.

"I have questions, my dear. Questions for you."

Oh really? Who else would they be for? The others had already left.

"Shoot."

"Promise you'll answer truthfully."

Barty blinked. What an odd request. One point to Bella.

"Of course," He said, still slightly bemused. "Why wouldn't I?"

Bella probably had raised her eyebrow at that, but he couldn't see it due to the mask, and she didn't make any further comment on his honesty.

"You and I both know that there was a very small chance that the dark lord survived that blast. Something of that magnitude would have torn anyone apart if they were close to the centre, and the dark lord most definitely was. I also know that you saw something happen during the blast. I was watching. Your body language is very easy to read sometimes, you know. So tell me. What. Did. You. See?"

Barty sighed. She would ask him that, wouldn't she? He wasn't even sure if what he had seen was true. He raised a hand with the intent to run it through the sandy mess that called itself his hair, but caught himself just in time. He was still wearing the stupid hood after all, and he didn't want to see what Bella would do if he compromised their identities because of his annoying habit.

"I'm not sure...I don't think he died _per se..._but what Regulus told us might happen definitely happened tonight."

"The prophesy?"

"Yeah. Both of them."

"Ah."

Bella looked as if she might have said more, but a whip-crack and a red jet of light shooting between them interrupted her. They both turned to see Lily Potter standing not far away, a look of furious anger on her face. James stood just behind her, his wand aimed at them menacingly. Bella giggled, but it quickly died in her throat as multitudes of Aurors began appearing outside the wards, along with the golden-robed Order of the Phoenix, Albus Dumbledore at their head.

"Don't move, either of you." A gravelly voice growled out from their left. Alastor Moody glared at them as he moved out from the shadow of one of the neighbouring houses. Bella's laughter rang out again. Barty smirked, and lifted his wand.

"Morsmordre!"

They disapparated just before four stunners hit them, the dark mark forming in the clouds above.

.sSs.

Mad-Eye grunted in disappointment, If that really was the Lady Lestrange, then her capture would have greatly inconvenienced Voldemort. If it was her, and if the charges stuck. The latter was almost as unlikely as convicting the Crouch boy. Again, assuming that really was the Crouch boy.

Some days it seemed like Death Eaters walked out of the Ministry faster than they could be thrown in. And somehow, every suspected Death Eater managed to have an airtight alibi for whatever they might be convicted of, and _somehow_, a bunch of half rate criminals managed to get their hands on a nigh-infinite supply of Polyjuice. They must have, to make up for the amount of transformations that wore off after five minutes in Auror custody.

He grimaced at the sight of Albus' purple robes (with lime green triangles) as the old headmaster walked towards him. They were hideously impractical, he'd be at a supreme disadvantage in a fire-fight. But the man hadn't been any different even when he'd been the Transfiguration Master thirty years ago.

"Any luck?" Albus asked quietly.

"Not a bit. The scum disapparated just as we arrived. I couldn't even see their faces." He lied shamelessly. If he told anyone that one of the Death Eaters had been Crouch's boy, he'd never be believed. And the murderous little git would only be more careful. You never caught a basilisk by advertising the trap. If he wanted a solid conviction, he had to be as cunning as they were.

"Anything up at the house?" he inquired.

"I haven't gone up yet, I want to fetch a wards expert from the Ministry, perhaps young Barty. I'm rather worried about Dark Magic residue, that's why Lily and James aren't allowed up there yet either."

_'Well, that is convenient. He's an inexperienced little brat, maybe I can make him give something away.' _

"I'm com-"

CRACK!

The Black boy appeared between them, wobbling from side to side and looking rather unwell. The sable cat on his shoulders yowled in protest and dug his claws into the nape of his neck. The pale aristocratic face (that was far too close to Alastor's head for his liking) scrunched up in pain.

"Sorry." the boy panted, "Rough trip. It's the cat. Not my fault, won't happen again. Probably." He tilted further to the left and grabbed at their shoulders to stabilize himself. After a few seconds, he straightened and flashed them a smile before dashing up the path towards the frantic looking Potters, weaving slightly from side to side and almost tripping several times.

The two older wizards watched bemusedly as the renegade Black Heir threw his arms around the panicking James. The cat took the opportunity provided by the sudden lack of movement to jump to the ground.

Alastor glared suspiciously at the tableau, before turning back to Albus. He still didn't trust that boy. Alastor knew that Sirius Black was a very accomplished curse-breaker and had worked for the ministry more then once since graduating from Hogwarts. He fought for the Order, and Albus apparently trusted him.

But Alastor also knew that Black, despite living away from his ancestral home, had never been disowned as such and with Orion Black's death in January that year, this long-haired enigma was the new Lord of a family of Dark Supporters and potential Death Eaters. And as the heir of said dark family, it was to be assumed that the boy was skilled in dark magic.

He wasn't called Paranoid Mad-eye Moody for nothing, after all.

"Have you sent for this 'expert' yet?" He growled. Albus just smiled pleasantly, tucking his hands into the wide sleeves of his robes.

"Ah - yes, as it happens. He should be along presently."

CRACK!

Another figure appeared between them. Albus looked most amused by this. He seemed to think it was funny.

He, however, was not so pleased. Especially since he'd just seen this boy disappear from this exact spot. However, when he left, he'd been wearing the hooded robes of the Death Eaters. Now he was wearing an elegant robe in a rich burgundy of what was obviously the finest material. Very Pureblood. Alastor was sure they were the same robes. This boy was supposed to be a genius, transfiguring clothes should be easy for a little twerp like him.

"My apologies for the delay, sirs. My house elf was threatening to burn the house down – apparently I was late for dinner. She likes to feel appreciated, and I'm afraid father has been neglecting her of late."

Albus' eyes twinkled merrily. Moody was well aware of the Headmaster's standing with house-elves.

"Not to worry, my dear boy, these things happen, why just the other da-"

"Not_ now _Albus."

"No, you're quite right, Alastor. I'm getting off track. Mr Crouch, could prevail upon you to do us a great service?"

"Of course Headmaster, anything I can do to assist."

They exchanged smiles (the boy's was rather sickly, in his opinion), and Dumbledore ushered them both towards the ruins of the Potter's home. Mad-eye grabbed Albus' arm and kept him and couple of steps behind the Crouch boy.

"Albus, the Dark Mark is in the sky. Have you told the Potters of the likelihood that their children are dead?"

Crazy, grief-stricken parents were not wanted, after all. Albus sighed and patted his shoulder (causing him to twitch).

"They already know, Alastor. They already know."

.sSs.

The magic was starting to give him a headache.

Regulus huffed and curled around Sirius' neck, making sure to keep his tail away from his brother's mouth. The ruined house, still glowing with residual energy that only his magic-sensitive eyes could see, was surrounded by Aurors and members of the Order who were making far too much noise. Regulus looked over to where the Potters were standing, Lily crying onto her husband's shoulder. It was obviously very hard for them to wait outside, when they could hear the sobs and wails of at least one of the babies inside the house. Regulus however, could not sympathize. He didn't have kids and didn't plan to.

He jumped as Sirius' hand, which in this form was almost as big as his head, reached up and petted him (Stupid ass of a brother; that was Regulus' _dignity _he was destroying there!). He laid his ears flat and hissed, swiping at Sirius' hand.

"Relax," Sirius whispered. "We'll be in soon, and then we'll see what really happened."

_'But we already know!'_ Regulus moaned silently_. _It was alright for Sirius – he didn't have to look at the raw magic. At least Sirius wasn't standing amongst the crowd any more. After enthusiastically greeting the people he knew, Sirius had backed off to recover from his attempt at apparating, and was currently leaning against a broken street-lamp on the other side of the street, watching the other wizards as they tried to look useful.

"Who did you steal the cat from, Black?"

Regulus looked up at the voice, and felt his eyes widen as he stared up at the towering wall of muscle that was Kingsley Shacklebolt. He heard Sirius gulp before a slightly strained grin appeared on his face. After all, compared to Kingsley Shacklebolt, both Blacks were far too feminine for their own liking. Every man was far too feminine for their own liking.

Regulus blamed the inbreeding.

"Hey, Kingsley. Why ever do you think that this isn't my cat? I'm hurt. Am I not allowed pets now? Is that it?"

Shacklebolt was obviously used to Sirius' silly mannerisms, as his face didn't change expressions. Or maybe he didn't have enough expressions to cover it. It wouldn't be the first time Regulus had seen that happen.

"I don't think it's your cat, Black, because that would be too simple."

"Aah, you win. This is a very special cat, who is currently in the possession of my ickle little brother. But Regulus doesn't know I took him, so SHHHH!"

Regulus wanted to smack his brother upside the head, but his paws weren't big enough to cause any interesting reactions so he settled for biting his brother's ear. Sirius yelped and glared at him. Regulus smirked the way only cats can and stuck out his tongue. Shacklebolt just blinked.

"I see."

"Ooh, look! Is that one little Barty Crouch I spy over there? It is! Come on Cat!"

Sirius ducked past Shacklebolt and sped off towards the skinny spiky-head that was Barty Crouch Jr, almost causing Regulus to fall of his perch. Regulus could tell what was going through his brother's head – Barty was just as inbred as they were and therefore was not a source of potential embarrassment. Plus he might know what was going on, because he was talking to Mad-eye Moody and the Headmaster. It was a very Sirius thought. His brother had odd priorities.

He dug his claws into Sirius' shoulder and yowled his annoyance in his ear. It really was amusing to watch him wince.

"Barty!"

Sirius flung his arms around Barty's neck, and Regulus took the chance to jump onto his best friend's shoulder. He purred happily and rubbed his cheek against Barty's ear.

_'Hello!' _He thought happily in Barty's direction. Pity cats weren't any good at legilimency.

Poor Barty. He knew exactly who was on his shoulder, and couldn't respond to the cat equivalent of a hug. One of the few times Regulus didn't act like a snobby, angsting bastard, and Barty was stuck looking slightly bemused as his best friend curled around his neck and said best friends older brother hugged the stuffing out of him.

Poor, poor Barty.

Sirius backed off and grinned at the Crouch heir. Behind Sirius, Regulus could see Dumbledore and Moody. Dumbledore was still smiling merrily, but Moody was glaring suspiciously at Sirius' back.

_'We'll have to watch him – he's smart.' _Regulus thought,_ 'But he might come to the wrong conclusion.' _

"Mr Crouch is going to examine the wards, Sirius my boy," Dumbledore said, ignoring the tension between the others (Sirius had noticed Moody glaring at him and had returned in kind). "We believe whatever happened here might have damaged them, which could be disastrous if we were to enter without fixing the damage. We don't know what they might do, you see."

Oh. So that was why no one was doing anything productive. They were all waiting for the nice Death Eater who broke the wards to fix the damage. Sirius seemed to have reached the same conclusion, as he was nodding.

"I'll give you a hand then. I helped set them up, so we should be done quicker. Hurry!"

With that, Sirius grabbed Barty's arm, and pulled him through the crowd to the destroyed picket fence in front of the Potter's cottage. Regulus watched as they both pulled out their wands and began to do whatever it was that they needed to do. He didn't know – wards and curse-breaking and the like weren't his speciality.

The Potter's approached, along with mad-eye and the Headmaster. Regulus turned to look at them and caught Lily Potter's gaze. He saw the tear-filled green eyes widen. She'd recognized him. Damn.

"Is that Re-"

"Not _now_ Lils, we're working." Sirius said absently, effectively cutting Lily off. At least she was smart enough to take a hint.

There was a quiet pop before yellow sparks bounced off the wards. Barty murmured something in what sounded a lot like Greek, and suddenly the wards were visible. To Regulus it looked like a giant glowing bubble covering the house, rainbow patterns running across it like spilled oil. Golden runes floated in and out of sight throughout the transparent dome. Then the top of the dome started to dissolve into tiny coloured sparks, and the rest soon followed.

"Well," Sirius said happily. "The wards are down."

Barty nodded and lowered his wand.

"But be careful."

Dumbledore nodded, before stepping onto the property, Lily and James close behind him. Moody limped behind them, and after a moment hesitation, Sirius grabbed Barty's arm and pulled both him and Regulus after the others.

.sSs.

_Oww, our hands hurt now. Too much typing we thinks._

_We sound like a broken record, but once more:_

_PLEASE REVIEW!_

_3_

_also, both of us are going to be doing NaNoWriMo (see our LJ for more details: link on profile) this november, we might be a bit slower with updating. just a warning, you know._

_Hugs and Kisses and please don't kill us,  
_

_Origins of Insanity.  
_


	5. Mistakes

**Mistakes**

.sSs.

The three men appeared out of nowhere, a few yards apart in the narrow, moonlit lane. For a second they stood quite still, wands out as if they were expecting someone to leap from the shadows and attack. Satisfied that they were alone, they stowed their wands beneath their cloaks and started walking briskly in the same direction.

"Let's hurry," Rodulphus Lestrange muttered, his face sliding in and out of shadows as overhanging tree branches create breaks in the moonlight. "We don't know if anyone followed us..."

He glanced nervously at the shadows beyond the wild, low-growing brambles that bordered the left side of the lane. On their right was a high, neatly manicured hedge that blocked any sight of what might lie behind it. Rabastan nodded, and Lucius Malfoy sped up, gesturing for the brothers to follow.

The men's long black cloaks flapped and billowed around their ankles as they hurried down the narrowing lane in single file. They turned right into a wide driveway that led off it before the lane came to an abrupt end. The high hedge turned with them, running parallel to an identical hedge on the other side of the driveway. The distance between them widened gradually as they faded into the distance beyond the impressive wrought iron gates that bar the way forward. The trio did not break step. As they drew near to the gates they raised their left arms in a kind of salute, forearms parallel to their torsos with the insides of their wrists facing the gate, and passed straight through the dark metal as if it were smoke.

The yew hedges muffled the crackling sound of their boots hitting the pale gravel. A handsome manor house grew out the darkness at the end of the straight drive, lights glinting from the high arched downstairs windows. Somewhere in the dark garden beyond the hedge, a fountain played quiet music as the water sprayed through the air. They sped towards the front entrance of the Malfoy manor, the heavy oak doors swinging inwards as they approached, though nobody had visibly opened them.

The trio practically fell over the threshold, all three breathing an audible sigh of relief as the door slammed shut behind them and the lamps lit themselves, flooding the large, sumptuously decorated lobby with soft light. Within the perceived safety of the manor, the events they had just participated in started to catch up with them. Rabastan slumped down on the bottom step of the main staircase with a thump and a groan, his head resting in his hands. Rodulphus grinned broadly at Lucius, but the Malfoy could see that it wasn't a happy smile. In fact, it was more of _oh-shit-what-just-happened?_ smile. It wasn't a smile Lucius felt like seeing, right then. It just seemed to emphasize the fact that they had no idea what had just occurred.

Lucius could still feel the cold knot in his stomach formed by fear and nervousness. They had left Him behind. They stood at the side of the Dark Lord, the most feared wizard in history, and essentially, they had run away. But the vital question was – had they left behind _their Lord?_ Or a _corpse? _

"Do you think...?" Rabastan started hesitantly, glancing furtively up at his brother and cousin from his place on the stairs. "..No, never mind."

"Do we think the Dark Lord is dead?" Lucius finished bluntly, to tired and, though he hated to admit it, anxious, to bother with niceties. Rabastan nodded and looked at Lucius expectantly. The blond lord shrugged silently. He didn't know.

"No one could have survived the full impact of that blast," Roduplus said slowly, "We only survived because we were outside the wards – you both saw what happened to the house."

"You think He's dead?" Lucius asked. The eldest LeStrange shrugged.

"My mark is gone. I can't think of any likely cause other than His death." He replied. Lucius looked as if he was going to say something else, but the sound of heels tapping on the stone floors caused him to stop. They all turned to look at the only open door leading off the lobby. "Narcissa _should_ be out..." Lucius muttered, hand drifting unnoticed towards his wand.

Narcissa obviously _wasn't _out, as she soon appeared at the door. There was a sense of urgency about her, and her eyes betrayed her nerves before the icy demeanor she usually portrayed returned to the fore.

"Lucius. Rodulphus. Rabastan. I was under the impression that you were going to be out tonight." She gives a strained smile.

The three men flicked quick glances at each other _'Aurors?'_ they wondered almost simultaneously, each quickly preparing an alibi.

"A change of plans, Cissa." Lucius said with a worried frown. Narcissa gazed silently at them for a moment, before something about her softened. She twitched a hand in subtle negation, realizing what they must have been thinking.

"Of course," She said a subtle expression of concern passing across her face. "But where is Bellatrix? Surely she was with you?"

The three wizards had indeed noticed the absence of the Bellatrix LeStrange, her presence is always quite noticeable, as is its lack, but none had felt a need to worry. Barty Crouch was her protégé, and she had probably wanted to speak to him before they separated. Bellatrix was a rule unto her own, and she did not follow orders well. There was no danger of her being caught at the Potter's house – she was a genius when it came to the dark arts, and a fierce fighter. Moreover, she knew that sometimes a retreat was the way forwards.

"I'm sure she will be along soon," Rodulphus reassured the Lady Malfoy. "There was something she needed to attend to."

Narcissa nodded and did not question them. It was obvious (to Lucius at least) that Narcissa knew that she was not being told everything. He didn't want to put her, and their son, in danger. The less she knew the better. His wife looked as if she were about to say something else when the front doors opened of their own accord.

"Hello Bella." Rodulphus said to his wife as she tumbled through the doorframe, tripped over her own heels and went toppling forwards. It was a source of common, but quiet, amusement that she could be so sure-footed in a fight yet so incredibly accident prone if left to her own devices.

Rodulphus, used to Bellatrix's dramatic anitcs, reached out and caught her before she hit the floor. Rabastan sent her a grin and wave over his brother's shoulder. She waved ruefully back.

"Are you alright, Bella?" Narcissa asked. Bella twisted around in her husband's grip and flashed her sister a cheerful smile.

"Of course!" She chirped, before standing up and looking at the three men. "Anyone figured out exactly what happened back there?" She asked them briskly, not Bella now but the Dark Lord's lieutenant. Rabastan shrugged and Lucius shook his head, blond hair spilling out of where it's shoved down the back of his robe.

"I could tell you." A new voice said softly. "For a price."

The four Death Eater's stiffened, and four wands were aimed at the shadowy figure in the hallway behind Narcissa before another breath could be taken. Bella's eyes narrowed.

"I know that voice..." She mumbled, confused. Rod flicked her a quick glance but they did not lower their wands. Narcissa looked as if she was going to protest when the figure moved forward into the light. For a moment Lucius thought he was seeing double. The new woman looked so very similar to Bellatrix that they might well be twins. Then she smiled, mockingly, and he remembered exactly who she was. Though he still didn't know why she would be there. Bellatrix gave a startled yelp, before throwing herself at her sister.

"Andromeda!"

.sSs.

"My, my," Albus mused as the six of them walked through the gaping hole that had once been the Potters front door. Well, it was seven of them if you counted the cat. _'Do I count the cat? He, she, uh, it, is here after all, and I quite like cats. Dogs are better, but cats aren't that bad, capable of truly astounding loyalty if treated right.'_ He stepped casually over the remains of the coffee table.

"This place is quite a mess, isn't it? I'm not sure if the two of you," a piercing wail split the air, "My apologies, three of," which was quickly joined by another, Lily gasped and James stumbled as he tried to step over the same coffee table he himself had just crossed. Well, it appears as if _both_ children had somehow managed to survive. How extraordinary. He heard Sirius let out a triumphant whoop.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Alastor grumbled. "We still can't be sure they haven't been cursed. It could be time delayed, or some sort of surveillance spell so Voldemort can spy on our plans. They might even be possessed by some sort of evil spirit."

Alastor, he thought, sounded far too pleased by this idea.

"Now, now, Alastor. I'm sure the children are fine, though they might benefit from a check over by Poppy all the same."

"Don't be ridiculous. They don't need the school Nurse, they need qualified Medi-wizards from the Saint Mungos Serious Curses ward."

A current of agreement ran through the room.

"Unfortunately, ideal as that would be, it would be far too easy for a Death Eater to gain access to them in Saint Mungos. No, I believe Poppy would be best. It would be terrible if they survived Voldemort only to be attacked by one of his followers."

Another current of agreement ran through the room, but this time it was agreeing with common sense as personified by Albus Dumbledore.

All was once again right with the world.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs up to the nursery, he attempted to continue his offer.

"_Since_ you probably don't want to stay here at the moment-"

"Yowch!" Young Barty cried. "Re-ex. What are you _doing_?"

Sirius' cat had leaped off young Barty's shoulder, digging his claws into the boy in the process, and was now standing on the fourth and fifth steps, hissing up the staircase.

Albus gave up. Things were far too chaotic at the moment.

"I know. I'm not a Hufflepuff, Rex." The boy met his eyes for a brief instant; he had enough time to see a glimpse of a large stone wall before the contact was broken. "There's Dark magic up there. You may want to be careful."

He smiled merrily. "_You_? My boy, you might like to take some care as well. I'm sure your father would be incensed if something happened to you."

The boy nodded and shadows hid his face momentarily. Albus couldn't shake the feeling that it was deliberate.

"I'm sure he would, Sir. But I'm a Slytherin. I always take care." He looked up and grinned slightly. "I thought it went without saying."

Sirius snorted, and Albus was sure that Alastor would be scowling if he were to look. Alastor really was far too much of a grouch.

The small procession trooped up the narrow staircase, following the feline. The children's cries increased in volume, drowning out the quiet chanting young Barty had started on the way up. Dumbledore knew that the chants were protective wards, protecting them from anything Dark and Evil that might be lurking upstairs. Young Sirius pushed past, stumbled slightly on the leg of the destroyed table and tripping his way up to Barty. Dumbledore stepped slightly to the side, allowing Sirius to barge past. Lily and James hurried up after him, but stopped when Dumbledore put out his arm. He turned to face them.

"Let the ward experts go first. I just want to make sure you're prepared for the possibility that something may have…" He paused, trying to think up a tactful way to tell them that their sons could have been detrimentally affected by whatever Voldemort had caused. "…gone wrong."

Lily gulped, and James paled dramatically. However, they both nodded resolutely, understanding what he meant. They could still lose their sons.

"Yes!" Out of the corner of his eye, Albus saw Sirius punch the air and young Barty was wearing the most genuinely pleased expression he'd ever seen on a Slytherin. How strange. Sirius pulled the door completely open, still somehow intact despite the damage to the rest of the house, and shoved the cat inside.

"Yowl if something bad happens." He slammed it closed, narrowly missing the furious felines tail.

"Black! What in the name of Semiramis? Let him out! You know how dangerous that is!"

"Well I can't now! You know how pissed he'll be. He'll kill me! You let him out!"

Young Barty grumbled and growled, and made a very rude muggle gesture, but eventually he stepped out of the way of the door and then yanked it open. The cat flew out, hissing and snarling.

"Right then!" Sirius said with a clap of his hands and a mad grin, practically vibrating in place. "Nothing dangerous left, in we go."

He bowed, and gestured them inside. Albus nodded at Lily and James, and decided to let them precede him. Some may call it cowardice, he called it prudence. You didn't get to be one hundred years old without learning a little bit of caution. Besides, they must be eager to see their children.

An instant after they rushed through the door, almost trampling the cat, the crying stuttered to a halt. It started up again within moments, of course, but it was a good sign. An infant suffering from a Magical Overload would often be completely unresponsive to its surroundings, it seemed like the children had probably recognized their parent's magical signatures.

He peered around the doorframe into the bedroom. Sure enough, Lily and James had a son each in their arms and were attempting to subtly check for injuries or directed Dark Magic residue while soothing the distressed toddlers.

Lily was holding young Harry, who was bleeding from a cut on his forehead – after a moment, she looked up and smiled.

"Harry's fine." She sighed. "He's barely even tainted by Dark Magic, and it's only around the cut on his forehead – which is the only injury I can find, by the way. I think he must have been hit by a chunk of Jack's crib when it collapsed. How is he?" She asked her husband.

"Soaked in Dark Magic, we'll want to get him through a Cleansing Ritual soon, otherwise, not a mark on him. I don't think he even has a bruise from when the crib broke. Pretty lucky in that respect – Harry's gash looks like it might scar. Still, chicks love scars, it'll give him a real head start once he hits puberty, eh, Pads?" He joked feebly, looking like he was about to pass out from relief.

"Yeah." Sirius replied without much enthusiasm, flicking his gaze back and forth between the two lucky children with an unreadable look on his face.

Albus thought it was finally time to make his offer, before something else distracted everybody again.

"If you would like, I'd be perfectly happy to provide rooms for you at Hogwarts until we're sure the children are fine and you can get this charming little cottage fixed up. It might make things a little less stressful, I'm sure you have quite enough to deal with already without adding all this to the mix."

"Thank you, Headmaster. I had thought about moving back into Potter Manor, but that would be more convenient for now." James said.

"But none of us are going anywhere until we've thoroughly checked the little brats for curses." Alastor announced, stomping into the room, wand drawn.

"Can't that wait?" James asked, looking exhausted and irritated.

"No, it can't. We have no idea what might have happened earlier tonight. Do you have any idea how many curses can be activated by magical transportation? We must be constantly vigilant against the power of Dark Magic." He growled. Agreement came from an unexpected, and almost forgotten, corner.

"He's right." Young Barty said. "I'm sorry, I know you must just want things to go back to normal, but you can't be completely certain your children are alright until they're properly tested. And I know you'd hate it if something went wrong because you wanted to put a thorough investigation off until the morning. Subtle wasting curses, magic draining potions, a portkey misdirection spell, we have no idea what the Dark Lord did to them. It's only sensible to take precautions."

James found himself nodding under the combination of young Barty's reasonable tone and the unpleasant possibilities it brought up.

Before they had time to blink, Alastor had his wand pointed at the children and a spell on his lips. He'd barely spoken the first syllable when his wand went flying through the air, hitting the far wall and clattering to the floor.

This might not be as easy as Alastor thought.

.sSs.

Once the Cleansing Ritual had started, the Headmaster pulled the parents out of the Hogwarts Infirmary.

"I believe this proves which child is the prophecy child – I'm sorry, Lily, James. But I believe your son, Jack, is the one who vanquished Voldemort."

Lily sagged, unsure whether the end of the uncertainty was better than the fear she now felt for her son.

"Is He vanquished?" James asked wearily. "How many times have we thought He disappeared only for Him to come back even worse than before?"

"Severus says his mark has vanished, and I found the remains of a robe by the door – it held Voldemort's magical signature. It seems likely that He's gone, though I believe He will return someday. But in the meantime, your son will doubtlessly be treated as a hero, the infant Savior of the Wizarding World. I want to caution you, don't let it go to his head. Or to Harry's. Jealousy is a perfect opening for the Dark."

This was just too much. One of her boys was going to be hailed as the defeater of Voldemort? How would that affect them? She'd seen enough of the Wizarding World to know how they were likely to react, and the chances of stopping them from going too far.

Over-the-top and non-existent.

"Oh Merlin." James breathed, probably caught up in images of being mobbed in Diagon Alley for snippets of Jack's hair or an eyelash or, or stuff! Let alone what Harry might grow up feeling, it would be like Lily and Petunia writ large.

What on Earth could they do to contain this?

"I'm sorry; I know this must be a great shock to you both. There are options, but none I expect you would find palatable." He gazed solemnly at them over his half-moon glasses.

"I don't find the situation all that palatable, Headmaster." She said, trying to put aside her shock. "You may as well tell us these options."

Dumbledore sighed.

"well, the most obvious would be that you all leave the Wizarding world, not necessarily permanently…"

.sSs.

Sirius scowled as Regulus kneaded his hair. If secrecy wasn't so important, he'd knock him to the ground. He was a little disappointed that Madam Pomfrey was too busy to observe this undoubtedly strange sight, it would probably have fed a years worth of rumors.

A roguishly handsome Pureblood witc…uh…wizard, skulking around corners with a black cat perched on his head. Both of them with their ears pressed to the crack between the door and the wall. Thank Merlin for shoddy medieval architecture and two decades of eavesdropping experience.

He scowled at Dumbledore's idea of sending Harry to live with Lily's magic-hating sister, and tried to resist the urge to blast the door down and explain his own idea. Actually, why should he resist? His beautiful idea was much better than Dumbledore's, and blowing doors down was so much FUN!

Though followed action almost instantly, as usual.

"_Confringo_." He whispered, and threw himself through the resulting hole in the wall.

This course of action had several benefits.

First, either the shock of his action or his abrupt movement had dislodged Regulus who gave a strangled meow and hit the stone floor with a thump.

Second, the old man was gaping, and missing his pretty pointy hat (it was orange with interesting little sparkly bits. Sirius wondered if he could steal it while Dumbly door was distracted).

Third, James was grinning, and the war meant that he didn't do that very much these days. Hm.

Fourth, he heard Lily mutter "Ten points from Gryffindor" with a very Head Girlish frown. _That_ was a little worrying.

Fifth, he was quite sure that everyone in the vicinity would agree that he was completely mad.

"You are unwise to lower your defenses…" He said in a very Darth Vader-esque voice.

James and Dumbledore looked at him blankly, Lily sighed.

"Star Wars, Sirius? Really?"

"It seemed appropriate." He shrugs. "Anyway. I've been listening in, and may I just say that _those_ are some of the worst plans for preventing sibling rivalry that I've ever heard. Not that I've heard many, but they definitely suck."

Dumbledore sighs. "And then what would you suggest, Sirius?"

"Well, the first thing I thought of thinking would be to raise them both at the same time – I mean, equally - but I understand how that would be difficultly impossible in this case. Next best, instead of shipping the sprog off to the state of Petunia, because surely, you, Queen Lil-cakes, can see how_ that _would be a most horrible idea, give him to _me_. I'm his awesomely beautiful godfather, and Moony-the-fuzzy-wuzzy can help me when he comes back, but for now, Meda can help me now! After raising a kid that can turn into any other kid, Harry should be quite simple. You, that is, Prongsie and Prongsette, can still see him as often as you want – and he can still spend time with Jackie – because I don't think your crazy muggle sister would agree to that For that matter, would she agree to look after Harry at all? Have you asked her? Have you smelt her? You can't just dump Harry on her doorstep; this isn't the good old days of Viking marauders after all."

Lily blinked, "What do Vikings-"

"-Nothing." James said quickly. "Nothing at all. Now, I'm not sure of we should make this decision too quickly…"

Sirius put his left hand on his hip.

Lily looked puzzled. James winced and quickly changed his tune.

"But on the other hand, the faster things are arranged the better for all of us I suppose. I think Sirius has had a good idea, and I'd prefer to trust my kids to him, than to Petunia."

Sirius switched hands. James started nodding furiously.

"Right, Lily, since we'd still be able to keep an eye on them both?"

Lily, who by this point just looked completely lost, nodded tentatively.

She should have known better then to argue with the Awesomeness that is Sirius Black!

"Great!" Sirius beamed. "Well then, Headmaster." He slung an arm across the old man's shoulders. "Since this is now a private discussion, if we could…"

Albus nodded, "Of course, of course. I shall see you both in the morning, Lily, James. The house elves have prepared rooms for you on the fourth floor, next to the statue of Everett the Earnest. The password is '_cockroach clusters'_. I shall see you all in the morning."

The headmaster wandered off down the corridor, his technicoloured robes swishing around him. Sirius just hoped he wouldn't come back for a while. He waved his wand and cast a quick _mufliato _around them.

James crossed his arms. "What on Earth, Pads?"

"Don't send Harry to Petunia. Don't even send him too far away. I can't tell you much, you know how it is," he said to James, "But I'd really, really like to adopt Harry. I think it could be pretty important."

"What?" Lily asked "why?"

"It's a Family thing." James told her, putting an arm around her "He can't tell us, but if he thinks it's important, then I'm willing to go along with it for now."

"Is there anything you can tell us?" Lily asked.

"Not really, it's, well, complicated, Meda knows more about it than I do."

Lily looked thoughtful. "Didn't Meda get an O in NEWT level Divination? And didn't she meet Ted telling fortunes in muggle London?"

"Yep." Sirius said, glad Lily was starting to get the hang of inter-family doublespeak.

"I see." She muttered, pursing her lips. Sirius had the vague feeling that she wanted to scoff about the uselessness of Divination, but since she had already gone along with one prophecy she couldn't really ignore a second. He hoped she would decide that not being a hypocrite was the better choice. At his feet, Regulus wound around his legs, purring softly. At least he wasn't alone.

He figured he probably had a bit more fast talking to do before they really went along with it, but with a bit of luck his little gamble would work.

If it didn't, Andromeda would kill him.

.sSs.

Hey guys, check our Lj (insanitysorigin . livjournal . com) for our sincere and abject apology for the delay. Also, Mikki has started posting drabbles there every single day (hopefully without fail) so go check those out.


	6. Story Telling

Black Madness

Chapter 6 – Story Telling

.sSs.

Rodulphus looked worriedly at his whispering wife and her two younger sisters. Well, she could be shouting for all he knew, but since they were behind a muffling charm, he wasn't sure. He was never sure with those three. They were infamously unpredictable.

He glanced at Lucius, who was sitting in the armchair opposite. Lucius shrugged. So it would seem he did not know what was going on either. He conjured up a pack of cards and a pile of chips, and motioned to his brother to join him on the settee. Lucius moved closer to the coffee table between them, and they began a rousing game of exploding poker.

May the best man win.

.sSs.

Twenty minutes later, the muffling charm fell just as Rodulphus folded with a glare at his last pile of chips. Rabastan grinned like a cat who'd got both the cream and the canary as he threw down his cards to reveal a winning royal flush. Lucius groaned, and revealed his ace high straight. It seemed that the younger Lestrange had won again. Rod didn't know whether he should be proud or annoyed that his brother was so good with cards.

He suspected annoyed, because he never got a share of the winnings.

"Oi! Boys!"

Bella yelled, drawing all attention to her as her shrill voice echoed slightly around the vaulted ceiling of the Malfoy's drawing room. She sat herself down on Rod's lap, while Narcissa and Andromeda sat down next to each other on the other settee.

"Sooo… Meda has stuff she want to talk about. Listen closely, little darlings."

They all looked to Andromeda to explain what exactly was going on. She sighed and took a sip from a teacup Rodulphus swore hadn't been there before. He supposed the Malfoy's had very good house-elves. Ones that were untainted by the more crazy Blacks that frequented the house from time to time.

"Well. I'm sure you've all noticed that the idiot who calls himself the 'Dark Lord' had a minor mortality issue tonight. I'm here to tell you that it is, unfortunately, minor. Regulus wrote to me a while ago to inform me that the Dark Lord had created several horcruxes."

She paused for a few gasps, curses and several violent displays of shock from the normally composed pureblood men. Every Dark wizard (or at least, all of them in the know (and horcruxes were fairly easy to get information on if you looked in the right places)) that creating _a _horcrux was bordering on criminally stupid. Creating more than one was the sort of stupidity that generally led to death, often violently with a lot of explosions.

"Yes," She agreed with a serene smile. It wasn't fair that the Black sisters had obviously had time to get used to the news. Why, he didn't know. Maybe it was a sister thing?

"Obviously, we were quite disturbed by this news, and have taken steps in light of this knowledge to… suitably manage future affairs. As we speak, Sirius and Regulus are checking on the Potter children to ensure their good health, as the younger one, at least, is vital to our hopes for the future. At some point over the next few days, I imagine that Sirius will begin taking steps to take custody of young Harry."

"What?" Rabastan asked. "Why?"

"I suspect that I should not tell you that yet. Just know that we will require your assistance, and in exchange we will assure your family's names and power will last for centuries. That is what the child can do for us, for you. Will you help us?"

Lucius nodded. "Of course."

Rodulphus and Rabastan took a little longer to confer.

"I don't think we have a choice." He sighed.

"Merlin, I hate it when you lot start getting involved in things." Rabastan muttered. Narcissa laughed and shot the younger LeStrange a coy smile.

"Oh, but it's so much more fun, darling!"

Bella grinned up at Rod, "So, sweetie, we have quite a lot of stuff to get started with. We don't want any problems when the Ministry comes calling in the morning."

.sSs.

"Please."

"…"

"No, seriously. Please."

"…"

"Stop staring at me like that!"

"Uh, Headmaster? You are aware you are talking to a flaming chicken, right?"

"…?"

"Headmaster!"

Albus Dumbledore finally looked up, meeting the black eyes of his irritated young spy.

Severus Snape rolled his eyes and glared right back.

The aging headmaster chuckled a bit and folded his fingers in front of his long crooked nose.

"Ah, Severus. What can I do for you?"

"She survived."

"Hm? Yes, she did. Young Master Black had something to do with that, I believe. Perhaps you should send him flowers, or maybe a fruit basket."

He looked at Fawkes and nodded solemnly, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Yes, you are right, old friend. This is much more of a fruit basket occasion."

Snape made a disbelieving noise in the back of his throat.

"The only fruit basket I'll be sending Black is one laced with poison. Did her children survive as well? Dare I hope that Potter was killed by a falling brick?"

"You do realise that they are all "Potter" now, my boy? After all, you were at the wedding. Don't try to deny it, I saw your animagus form. You do realise most people would think a raven at their wedding day is bad luck?"

"And yet, they just survived the dark lord. You didn't answer my question."

"Which one?"

"Did. The. Boys. Survive?"

"Oh, yes! They're perfectly fine, but Poppy is checking them again in the morning."

"And you couldn't say that before, why?"

"Oh, Severus . You are still so young…"

"Don't patronise me, Headmaster."

"And the prophecy?"

"Ah….It would seem little Jack is our saviour….I take it your mark has faded?"

"Yes, how did-"

"It is as I suspected…"

.sSs.

"I can't do it, James. I really can't."

James sighed and wrapped his arms around her. They were sitting on the side of their guest-bed at Hogwarts, the twins asleep in the other room. Tears just kept silently falling down Lily's cheeks as the thought of having to give one of her children away hit her in the stomach.

"I know, Lils. I really don't want to do it either."

"We shouldn't have to, James! We should at least try to raise them together!"

James looked at her. He knew that Sirius thought it was important that he raise Harry, but he couldn't stop feeling upset by the idea of giving up either of his sons to anyone, even his best friend.

"Maybe we could try to raise them together, if it all falls apart, I'm sure Sirius would still be happy to help. I don't think it will be easy, but if we try hard enough…"

"Yes. And sending them to Sirius would be much better than sending them to Petunia. But I still want to try to do it ourselves."

Lily looked at him. The tears had stopped flowing and had been replaced with a determined look.

"Yeah."

.sSs.

Sirius glared at his bed. More specifically, he glared at the cat taking up almost the entirety of his bed.

"Damnit, Regulus! It's tomorrow and I want to _sleep_!"

The cat rolled onto his stomach and flipped his paws up, somehow managing to take up even more mattress space.

"Regulus! Get off!" The cat shifted into the slightly more familiar form of his brother, the way his hair fell revealing three new piercings in his ears since their meeting in Knocturne Alley around a year ago. Sirius wondered what their mother thought about _that._ If she even knew, of course.

"Why? I'm tired, I did you a favour, I should be allowed to sleep too, not be forced to run around Hogwarts trying to get back home."

"Because I need to sleep, and you need to go tell Meda what's happening."

Regulus groaned, "Tell her yourself."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

Sirius whipped out his wand and cast a waxing charm. Regulus shrieked and curled up in a ball by the pillow.

"Go find Meda." Sirius ground out through gritted teeth.

"Fine. Fine." Regulus whimpered, clutching his shins.

He morphed back into his animagus form and Sirius laughed crazily. His waxing charm had stripped the fur from Regulus' back legs.

His brother gave him a truly poisonous glare and jumped down from the bed.

.sSs.

Regulus dashed through the Hogwarts wards and kept running for a few more minutes. It wasn't uncommon for particularly cunning ward schemes to have back-ups just outside the Primaries (or so Barty assured him). One solitary cat shouldn't cause any alarms (Animagus wards were notoriously finicky) and if Dumbledore maintained them stringently he'd be informed every time McGonagall or Severus passed the wards, or even changed forms.

Regulus would certainly never have been allowed into the castle.

Once he was sure he was past even the outermost wards, he paused and changed back.

Then he clicked his fingers.

_Pop!_

"That took awhile." He drawled, sweeping his hair forward slightly to cover his well pierced ears.

"Kreacher is sorry younger Master." The cringing house-elf said, wringing his hands nervously. "Kreacher was polishing the Mistress' jewels." He looked up slyly and met his younger master's gaze, pleasure glinting in his eyes. "Mistress will make Kreacher iron his ears."

Regulus winced. Perhaps he had gone too far with that particular experiment.

"I see." He said. "Well, elf, I have a short task for you. Go, Find Andromeda. Then return and tell me her location. And hurry up, I want to get to sleep soon."

"Of course, younger Master."

The elf disappeared with another _Pop_! Regulus sighed. And counted to ten.

The elf returned with a third, somewhat subdued _Pop! _

"Younger Master's cousin is at the Malfoy Manor." He announced. "Kreacher wonders if the filthy blood-traitor has learned her lesson."

Regulus winced, _'Dammit. I really can't let that go.'_

_"_Please don't talk about her like that," He murmered. "I'll have to punish you."

The house-elf's eyes lit up and Regulus winced again.

"_Pungens_." He muttered, jabbing his wand at the indecently cheerful elf.

As he apparated away, he heard the elf thank him enthusiastically. That was just _weird_.

He appeared at the end of a long, dark lane and hurried quickly towards the gates to the Malfoy Manor, his robes swirling around him. As he reached the entrance, another figure appeared around the corner a few feet away from him, running towards the gates from the other direction.

"Hey!"

Regulus smiled slightly and let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

"Hey yourself, Barty. Why are you heading up there in such a hurry?"

Barty slowed and let Regulus catch up with him. The youngest Black could just make out a smile on his lover's face.

"My Father's gotten into the Fire-whiskey again, started ranting about dark magic and glaring at me suspiciously. Thought I'd prevail upon Narcissa's hospitality."

"You could have come to see me." Regulus said, conveniently forgetting that he had spent the night chasing after his idiot of an elder brother and that they had both been at the Potters cottage.

"It's two o'clock in the morning, Reg. Besides, my father's, well, feeling a little anti-Black right now. I didn't think it would be wise to provoke him."

"You didn't have to _tell _him where you were going." Regulus said with a smirk.

"Well, no, perhaps not, which is why I didn't." Barty said, slinging an arm around his boyfriend's shoulders. "However, should we be interrupted _again_, I am more confident that the Malfoy elves will keep quiet long enough for me to sneak out. You know, as opposed to your perverted little experiment gone wrong."

"Oh, please don't remind me of Kreacher. I really need to find something to fix that one. I had to cast a stinging hex on him a few minutes ago. It's just not decent!" Regulus replied with a grimace, snaking his own arm around Barty's waist, pausing to cop a feel first.

"Hey!" Barty yelped. Regulus smirk and gave the ass another squeeze before returning it Barty's waist. They turned up into the Malfoy's drive, walking down the gravel path.

"Anyway," Barty said, chuckling. "What are you doing here at stupid o'clock in the morning? Sneaking off to have an affair with Lucius?"

It was an old joke, but it still made him smile. (Smile properly, not one of his trademark smirks and/or batshit crazy grins.) They both knew why he was there, the black Death Eater robes that he had yet to change out of kind of gave it away, if his presence on Sirius's shoulder earlier that night didn't. But he played along anyway, relishing in the light-hearted atmosphere Barty had accumulated after years of spending 24/7 in or around Bellatrix's sphere of influence.

"Yes." Regulus laughed, "Our love is not to be denied. I'm afraid you'll just have to console yourself with your own house elf. You can't have mine."

"I don't _want _yours, darling! He's a perverted little freak. We could give him to Winky."

They though about this for a second, shuddered, and said, "No." in unison. That was just too much.

"Its been a strange night." Regulus murmured. Barty nodded and pulled him closer.

"Do I get a kiss if I don't ask what you're doing here?"

"No. You get that anyway. And it's no big secret. Sirius wants to talk to Meda, and I'm playing messenger."

Barty stumbled and looked at his lover incredulously.

"Oops." Regulus said merrily. "Didn't I tell you?"

"Where do I begin?" Barty mumbled.

"I don't know, do you want the short version, or the long version?"

"Short version for now, you explain it better later."

.sSs.

"Barty! Regulus! What a surprise." Narcissa called as they walked through the doors to the drawing room.

"Good evening, Lady." Barty said with a bow, "We're quite sorry to - Gah!"

And so Bartimus Crouch Junior got tackled to the floor by the Lady Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Hello, brat!" She squealed.

"Hello, Bella." Barty let out a long-suffering sigh and waited patiently as Bellatrix squeezed him tightly. He sent Regulus a look that screamed _'help me!_'. The Younger Black smirked slightly and toed Bellatrix in the stomach.

"Oi, that's mine, cousin. Let go."

"Awww!"

"You have your own over there." He reminded her, waving a hand in Rod's direction. "In fact, you even have a spare. Now shoo."

"Awwwwwwww!"

"Can't. Breathe!"

"Oops. Sorry, brat." With that, she let go, allowing Barty to stand. He then got dragged over to the settee by his overly-exited mentor and forced to sit between the two male Lestrange's, while she took back her seat on Rod's lap. Rabastan clapped him on the shoulder.

"We feel your pain, Brat. We feel your pain."

"I notice you didn't try to rescue me, though."

"We have also learnt that _that, _at the very least, is futile."

Regulus scowled, and sat down on Barty's lap. There really weren't enough seats in the drawing room for eight people to all sit in their preferred configurations. Barty wrapped his arms around the younger Black's waist and puled him closer, so that his back was resting against the Crouch Heir's chest.

"Aw, now I feel like the odd one out! Lucius, come sit on me!" Rabastan cried. Lucius gave him a strange look and quickly shook his head. Narcissa laughed, and moved to sit on Rabastan's lap, sending her husband a smirk.

"Aw, poor Lucius. The odd man out, bet you wish Severus was here around now." She cooed. Lucius gave her a very affronted look, and Andromeda chuckled softly from behind her teacup. Obviously no one else had seen the guest who had slipped in behind Barty and Regulus.

"Before you ask, Bella, I am not going to sit on Lucius' lap. Unlike some, I still retain at least a small sense of dignity."

Lucius looked around in astonishment and saw the black-clad man standing beside the door. Bella waved happily. It was quite obvious that she had known about their guest for some time, and had chosen not to tell anyone.

"Severus? When did you get here? For that matter, _why_ are you here?"

"Aww, it's like a little clubhouse." Bella chuckled happily. Severus chose to ignore that comment, instead throwing a small vial in the direction of Regulus.

"That's yours, Black. And to answer your question, Lucius, I entered the room just after Black and Crouch. You just didn't notice. As to why I am here, I merely wished to see what your opinions were on our newest...dilemma." he said as Rod caught the vial and passed it to Bella who sniffed it before passing it to Regulus. Severus leaned against the wall behind the settee that now had six people crammed onto it.

"What is that?" Barty asked curiously, before yawning widely. "Sorry. I've had a long day."

"Haven't we all." Severus mumbled. "It's Dementor saliva, Black wanted some for one of his experiments. I had a devil of a time getting my hands on even that much, so be careful with it for Merlin's sake."

"I will," Regulus said, pocketing the vial. "I'll have your payment sent to you tomorrow, if I can escape Sirius."

"I'd be more worried about the Ministry, they'll be all over us soon. Speaking of, I imagine it would be somewhat suspicious if we were all here when they arrived."

"Indeed," Andromeda murmured. "Regulus, what can you tell us?"

"The children are fine, well, as fine as they can be. Sirius proposed the idea to the Potters this evening, but we haven't got an answer yet. When I left, we had just repainted the entrance hall."

"Hm."

"Hang on," Severus said. "That sounds almost like you've been inside Hogwarts today!"

Regulus turned just enough to smirk at his fellow potions master.

"Oh, but I have." He said. "You probably saw me, you know."

"Really?" Severus asked, "And when did i do that?"

"You didn't see Sirius walking around with a cat on his head?"

"..."

"Yeah, that was me."

"..."

"The cat, I mean. Sirius is no one other then himself."

"...so that was you."

"Yup!"

Severus stared, before shaking his head.

"...I should have realised. No other duo would cause so much chaos in quite so little time."

Regulus smirked, and his insufferably proud expression caused the other occupants of the room to laugh (aside from Severus, who never laughed if he could help it).

"Are you sure, Sev? After all, the Potter-Black Griffindork duo had quite the track record." Narcissa asked deviously. The ringleaders of the Marauders (as the Gryffindor trickster quartet insisted on being called) were a notoriously sore subject for Severus, one all three Black sisters had used to pinch and pull the surly potions-master onto their side at least once.

"It was a tough call, but I'm afraid that the Black Brothers won. I'm not sure if I should be amused by the fact that Potter and Black _can_ be beaten at all, or utterly horrified."

"You should be horrified." Barty said with a decisive nod, eliciting a chorus of nods from the surrounding wizards and witches. Andromeda smiled in amusement before setting her teacup down and standing up.

"I believe I have prevailed on your hospitality for long enough, Cissa. I will be in contact with all of you before long, but for now focus on creating an alibi and owl it to Sirius. I believe he is coming up with a way to help you all come out of forthcoming events safely."

She nodded at everyone.

"I bid you all goodnight." And with that, she swept out of the room, her robes and skirt billowing out behind her. There was a collective silence before Rabastan broke it with a long whistle.

"Just going to say, but she can make one hell of an impressive exit."

.sSs.

Sirius groaned and rolled over, reaching blindly for the window catch by his headboard. It wasn't until he landed on the floor with a loud thump that he realised it wasn't his bed.

Which probably meant that it wasn't his window either.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and gazed sleepily around the room.

Yup.

Hogwarts.

Right.

Why was he-

Yikes!

He leapt to his feet, heart beating a mile a minute.

_The Harpies were down by fifty points!_

Then he blinked, as the rest of the previous night filtered back in through the fog of shock and exhaustion.

_Voldemort, James and Lily, the boys, the Prophecies, Voldemort's attack, Voldemort's downfall, Regulus, the fact that he never found out whether THE HARPIES WON OR NOT-_

At that precise moment, a harsh tapping noise came from behind him.

He peered over his shoulder.

Right. The window.

And the owl.

The really _angry _looking owl.

That Sirius recognised.

"Moony!" He shouted, lunging for the window and fumbling eagerly with the catch.

It took several seconds and a scraped knuckle, but he managed to throw the window open and retrieve the letter. A process which left him with three more cuts on his hands, one of which was bleeding a little.

Oh well, who cared about evil owls and mortal wounds?

He had a letter!

"Moony! Moony, Moony, Moony, Moony, Moony!"

He clutched the letter in one hand and did an impromptu war dance in the middle of the room to the mantra of "Moony!", waving his arms and legs about and making strange noises that were reminiscent of a vuvuzela.

"I Just got a letter~! I just got a letter~! I just got a letter, I wonder who its from!" He sung, before collapsing onto the bed with the letter held above his face. He could see Remus's looping handwriting on the envelope.

"Its from Moony!"

Now. Should he rip it open or be careful with it?

Normally he would just tear the envelope to pieces looking for the letter, but he didn't _really_ want to do that to this one. Letters from Moony were rare. He didn't want to hurt one.

It was _precious. _

He made an odd cooing noise at the back of his throat, before rolling over onto his stomach. He then proceeded to open the envelope very, _very _slowly, with as little tears as he could. He knew he could have used magic to open in, and then there wouldn't have been any tears, but he couldn't actually find his wand. He suspected Regulus had it. And he was far too tired to think about using wandless magic.

Soon enough, magic or not, he had freed the letter from the confines of its envelope and was staring at it. It lay innocently on the bed in front of him, all neatly folded up and Moony-esque.

_To: the Right Honorable Paddifootikins _

_How are you all? The last newspaper I saw (Lacey smuggled it in somehow, she's so sneaky, you'd like her), it said that the Death Eaters had managed to get a batch of Polyjuice from somewhere, that's why there had been so many reports of influential citizens taking part in raids._

_I hope that's not true, I bet it would make it really hard to actually know what's happening. On that subject, how's Severus? Any more bets on what side he's on? (He'd better be on ours, I've got almost a gallon riding on that). He got that job as a aide to Professor Slughorn, didn't he? I don't think Dumbledore would hire someone on the bad side. And he is fantastic at Potions. Last time I saw him his hair wasn't even that bad. And he doesn't look quite as stretchy as he used to. Remember when we were in fourth year? He'd just hit that growth spurt and he looked like someone had put him on a rack and twisted him like bubblegum._

_Also, stop screwing your face up like that, Sirius, as I can tell you are indeed doing. He's not too bad, but that doesn't mean you have to be jealous and put soap in his tea again. I merely have potions on the brain, both literally and metaphorically. I am thinking that this newest experiment might have a rather strange side effect. But it does seem to working, so maybe only a few more adjustments need to be made. I don't know. Potions aren't my strong subject._

_I missed you guys, you have no idea how hard it is to tie-dye the researchers robes pink and purple by myself. Actually, you might, and if so, you will appreciate the hardships I have suffered for a little bit of fun here._

_I can't write much more - I'm not sure if they'll intercept this letter, but let me tell you, Scandinavian wizards are __scary. _

_Not a perverted grandma fancier,_

_Remus "Moony" Lupin _

Sirius re-read the letter. Then read it again. Then let out a sound that, if any one else had made, would have been called a squeal.

"I'm going to guess, judging by the weird-ass sound you just made, that whatever you're reading is good then."

Sirius would deny that shriek later. He sat up very quickly, staring wide-eyed at Regulus, who smirked from his place in the large plushy armchair by the fireplace. The younger Black smirked and settled himself more comfortably in the chair.

"What?" He asked innocently. Sirius just gaped, making small strangled sounds of pain and despair.

Regulus's smirk grew larger and he lounged back, tapping his fingers (and black painted nails) on the arm of the chair. He changed out of his death eater robes, Sirius noticed, or at least transfigured them into something he could be seen wearing in public. Something, which in Regulus' mind, included light grey jeans that were too tight for their own good and what appeared to have at one point been the dark purple waistcoat of a fancy muggle suit. It was being worn as a shirt now though and had three easily visible rips. Sirius now fiercely believed that the worst (or maybe the Best) thing he'd ever done is let Regulus meet the muggle 'punk' he'd dated for a few months just after he'd left school. He knew that that punk thing was going to interest his brother. He'd just _known._ At least Regulus had better taste in music now. And their combined style was enough to give their mother a coronary.

A closer look showed that Regulus had not only stolen Sirius's combat boots, but also a couple of his dog tags, the arm band with the Union Jack on it (and Sirius would be damned before he let his brother _keep_ that - it had been a gift from his Moony), one of fingerless gloves made of patented red leather and the headphones from his Walkman. They were making a showing as some sort of impromptu necklace. Sirius had to admit, in all their chunky black and silver glory, they looked good with the rest of Regulus's ensemble. And besides, Sirius was _pureblood._ Far be it from him to criticize fashion. Especially fashion that worked. The clinking of the bracelets that looked like they'd been stolen from Bella's jewelery box (That is to say, over-sized and clunky) brought Sirius back to reality. Regulus raised an eyebrow, the silver stud glinting in the barely-dawn light. His wavy black hair had been pulled back into a short pony-tail, long bangs falling over one eye, while the bangs on the over side had been clipped back with a cross shaped hair-clip. At least five piercings were visible.

Well, _someone_ had pulled out all the stops.

He must be meeting Barty.

'_The brother despoiling tart_.'He thought with a sniff. He liked Barty, he really did. He just wasn't as eager as Bella was to have Barty _marry _his cute, precious little brother. Though, if he _didn't _marry Regulus there would be a long discussion about leading on his baby brother and breaking his heart and taking advantage of his kind-ish and innocent-ish nature. It really didn't matter that Regulus had been the one to stalk Barty through the corridors of Hogwarts before finally managing to jump him in the disused girls bathroom on the second floor. Barty would be singing soprano if he didn't make his brother into an honest man (or as honest as he could be) at this point.

It was a matter of family honour.

"How long have you been there?" Sirius scowled.

"Since you fell out of bed." Regulus admitted with the cheerful smirk of someone whose One True Love wasn't stuck in the middle of the snowy nowhere living in an igloo.

His scowl intensified when he remembered that 1. Remus wasn't technically his anything (yet) 2. Remus wasn't just living in an igloo, he was living in an igloo with a sneaky woman who was bound to be all over his Moony, since obviously he was completely irresistible.

Oh well.

He just hex her later. Then steal back his Moony.

Right now he had a brother to jinx.

.sSs.

James was feeling troubled. Recently, this seemed to have a common feeling. He wasn't sure that he liked that. It seemed like so long ago he was map-writing and prank-playings and laughing and the worst thing that could happen was Lily dumping him (which was a very major thing to be sure, but still kinda small in the scheme of things).

Now he was feeling troubled.

Very troubled.

So, he was doing what he always did when he was feeling troubled.

He was looking for Sirius.

Sometimes, the simple (or not so simple) act of finding his best friend was enough to calm him down. If it wasn't, Sirius himself was. But now he was feeling so much worse then every before, because Peter had obviously betrayed them and one of his his children was being heralded as the savior of their entire world, and the other may or may not be in grave danger simply by being with his family and Lily wouldn't stop crying, and he though he had seen Snape being attacked by a cat earlier which was weird and he horrified that he hadn't felt the urge to send a hex in Snivilus' direction as he passed by and the whole bloody castle was making him feel nostalgic and-

He was feeling troubled.

He had asked McGonagall where Sirius's guest room was, and had listened very, very carefully as she had told him the way. It was far too easy to get lost at Hogwarts and he hadn't actually been here (as in,_ here_ here, not just the headmasters office during order meetings. That didn't count) for nearly four years so he was slightly worried that the castle had changed so much that he wouldn't even recognise some parts. And he still needed to ask Sirius just why he had had a cat with him the night before, which was just plain strange any way he thouht about it because it was like a rule of the universe or something that Sirius should not be allowed near cats. He tended to case them. And bite their tails, and-

Now he was babbling. Mentally, but still babbling.

"Fourth floor, west corridor...fifth room. The one with the purple stained parakeets around the balcony. How am I supposed to know if it has bloody parakeets or not?" He muttered as he turned into the west corridor of the fourth floor. He soon realised which room Sirius was in, as it was the only one with a door painted white with blue and red polka dots. And small pictures of yellow canaries.

It also had the large words 'SIRIUS' MOST AWESOME ROOM' written above it.

In neon orange.

And was flashing

Apparently Sirius was expecting guests.

He walked morosely (could you even walk morosely? He didn't know) over to the door and stared at it.

"At least he makes himself easy to find," He shrugged. "Although I think this might be just a bit much."

He opened the door, trying not to touch the purple doorknob for any extended amount of time. He_ knew_ Sirius. Paint wasn't always the only thing he put on doors.

He then quickly shut it again.

He really hadn't expected to come across Sirius and his younger brother, both dressed to the nines in the muggle clothing Sirius liked, roughhousing on the bed.

'_Well,'_ he thought, returning to staring at the door in all its colourful glory in slight (or more then slight) horror. _'I suppose that explains the cat.'_

.sSs.

Sirius stared at the closed door in confusion. Why had James left so quickly? It wasn't like him at all! Had something horrible happened? Was some one dead or concussed or cross-dressing? Was-

"Get off, git." Regulus growled, pushing at his shoulders and attempting to kick him where it hurt. It was only then that Sirius realised what they're current position usually implied. And then he vaguely understood why James had looked so embarrassed.

After all, if he had walked in on his best friend pinning someone to a bed, and that someone was wriggling like a worm on crack, his mind would have gone straight to the gutters and below too.

Especially if that someone was his best friends brother.

This especially applied if they were purebloods.

Or twins.

Or pureblood twins.

Not that James _had _any brothers (or sisters for that matter), but it was the thought that counted. He and Regulus weren't twins, but they were purebloods of the highest order and the whole incest thing had gotten to the point where Sirius had been engaged to all three of his female cousins (_they _at least were within the right age group) at least once. And he pretty sure his mother had tried to engage him to Lucius and Rabastan a couple of times too. And at one point Regulus. His father had been going through another paranoid phase. He'd apparently thought that any other wizard or witch outside of the immediate family was a danger. And therefore binding his sons in (un)holy matrimony was the obvious answer to the question of succession.

And of course, James knew about that, seeing as it had happened in third year and all.

Prongsie was probably jealous that he was the one of the few purebloods of their generation who Sirius _hadn't_ been engaged to.

But still, maybe he should go and convince the silly deer that Moony was the only one for Padfoot.

Because seriously, the one thing better then crazy incestuous relations was puppy love.

Both literally and metaphorically, to quote a certain missing werewolf.

But, of course, only as humans.

"Anything else would just be weird." He said, nodding solemnly.

Regulus looked at him like, well not like he'd grown another head or something because Regulus had known him for nineteen years and he' said some very strange things in that time (and actually grown another head once), but it was definitely a look that said that he didn't quite understand what was going through Sirius's head.

"...Ri-ight."

"Yeah. Now, give back my boots. I don't have any other shoes that are actually mine, and those are comfortable."

"Do you want your ass kicked again?" Regulus asked. "I can't give them to you when I'm pinned to the bed, brother."

Sirius blinked.

Then blinked again.

"Oh, yeah."

He rolled over Regulus and landed on the floor again, but at least this time it was intentional and somewhat cool-looking.

"That looked pathetic." Regulus noted, standing up and smoothing his hair and clothes. Sirius sighed, and did the same.

"At least I tried." He said mournfully. "Boots, please. You can wear those hooker-boots Bella bought for Rabastan a couple of years back."

"Why would I _want _too?" Regulus asked, but Sirius could see that his crazy, crazy little brother was actually considering it. Which was more then a little worrying.

Sirius sighed, and clicked his fingers, focusing on the strange edge to his magic that screamed 'house-elf'.

"Master?" Kreacher sneered after he popped in. His head was sporting a bandage where it appeared something a had hit him. Violently. The elf smiled and touched the bandage.

"Fetch me the boots I stole off Rabastan." He said, trying to sound commanding instead of creeped out.

Kreacher's sneer increased, but he popped away. Regulus shed himself of sirius' combat boots as they waited. Sirius quickly grabbed them and stuffed his own feet in them. He couldn't trust regulus not to change his mind.

Kreacher soon with the boots. They were just as unwearable as they were when he stole them.

Regulus looked like he'd fallen a little bit in love.

With the shoes, hopefully. Not Kreacher. The last thing they needed was for the creepy little snot's crush to be returned.

When Regulus sighed happily and took the boots off Kreacher, Sirius had to flinch. Instead of his usual surly expression, the messed up elf now wore that weird look he only seemed to get around Regulus and Walburga.

The one that said he wanted nothing more than to stalk them like some sort of creepy vampire stalker thing. One that snuck in your window and watched you sleep.

Sirius hurriedly dismissed him before Kreacher could ask Regulus to have him whipped or something equally disturbing.

He looked horrified (and maybe a little bit awed) as Regulus pulled on the knee high lace-up boots, before transfiguring the six-inch heels into a flatter, shorter and slightly more masculine heel. His jeans were tucked into the black leather and Regulus proudly strutted to the mirror, spinning in a vain little twirl and examining himself in the mirror.

"What do you think?" He asked. Sirius vaguely realised that being surrounded nearly entirely by women for most of their childhood had done something very weird to his brother's mind. It probably hadn't helped that he'd been stuck with their cousins throughout puberty as well.

Sirius was suddenly aware that he also tended to act like this as well.

Huh.

Yet another thing to add to his list for why he hated his father. And his mother. And his aunt and uncle. It wouldn't have killed them to have sons, would it? But nooo, they had to go have three girls who were all older then both him and Regulus.

Granted Narcissa was only by four months older then Sirius, but she was just as much a menace (if not more so) as her two elder sisters. And cousins. And Aunts. And the occasional uncle.

He thought for a minute about how his father almost died once because he had locked himself in a room and warded it against house-elves for a week because he thought they might try to kill him. Uncle Cygnus had only managed to persuade him to come out because he had daughters and was therefore very skilled in convincing people.

His father may well have murdered them in their sleep if they'd had a son. Especially since they'd had their children first. He had never liked aunt Druella, simply because she was a Rosier, and obviously below a Black. If Orion's brother-in-law had had a son before Orion himself did, Sirius knew that there would have been mass murder involved.

And as much as he wished he had not been their testing dummy for cosmetics and other material things, he kind liked his cousins.

"Sirius!"

"Huh?" He blinked, only to find that his eyes weren't lying, and there definitely was a Regulus staring at him with a hand on his hip and an angry look on his face.

"Yes, Regulus dear?"

"I asked you what you thought about the boots."

Sirius decided it was probably better to answer rather then start up with another mental monologue.

"They look good on you." He answered, surprisingly truthfully (and wasn't that frightening? His cute little brother who used to drool in Andromeda's hair looked good in hooker-boots. _scaary_). Regulus smirked and Sirius though that if Regulus had sharp pointy teeth, he would look very, _very _frightening.

"Of course I do."

.sSs.

When they left the room, James had gone. But he'd left a rather intriguing graffiti on the wall, depicting what appeared to be a pair of rabbits doing the macarena.

"I'm hungry." Sirius declared, tilting his head to try see what the picture looked like upside down. Regulus sighed.

"It's to early for there to be food in the Great hall. We might as well go to the kitchens." He paused before grinning. "You know the entirety of the students are going to see our art in the Entrance hall, soon?"

Sirius nodded, a similar grin on his own face.

"So we get food, harass some house-elves, then watch the munchkins adore our artistic skills."

.sSs.

**Hello~! Rae here. You must be shock that we got this chapter out so quickly (Mikki note - for us), and frankly, we're shocked too. Its because of this awesome thing we recently discovered called google docs. Google docs is God.**

**We can now actually write stuff without having to spend half the day emailing it back and forth.**

**It's great**

**So. You have got a little insight into pureblood society and what the Blacks are like.**

**Mikki's turn!**

**And if anyone's freaking out about the slight hints of Sirius/Regulus, then **_**relax**_**. Ok? While we did both realise that we shipped them when Cat!Regulus was stretched out in Sirius' bed, this story isn't going there. Regulus and Sirius are both head over heels with other, non blood-related people.**

**But we do want to hear from you about pairings.**

**We're pretty solid on Sirius/Remus, Barty/Regulus, Snape/Lucius, BellaxRodulphus and NarcissaxRabastan, we're also starting to lean towards Harry/Cedric, HermoinexBlaise and DracoxLuna (assuming we ever get that far, god, we are so slow). But what else? What about Tonks? Is she doomed to a life of loneliness? Does she end up in a happy manysome with Bill, Charlie, Percy, Susan Bones and Goyle? Does she bring home a different person every other night to her mother's despair?**

**For that matter, what about Andy? Does she divorce Ted and swear off relationships forever? Does she forgive Ted (unlikely, but it might happen)? Does she steal the LeStrange brother's away from her sisters? **

**And the Weasley twins? What do we do with them?**

**And Jack? Do we set him up with Ginny? Ron? Neville?**

**Tell us your fav pairings and well have a squiz. It'll definitely help us decide. **

**There are, of course, no guarantees, but we're very open to suggestions.**

**Also, any errors, point them out please, and if anyone's been watching Mikki's drabbles, I'm very, very sorry for how busy my life's been and should be posting a few of the ones I've missed later tonight.******

**If you haven't been reading Mikki's drabbles, then why not?**

**Get your doubtlessly attractive asses over to our Lj (insanitysorigin . ) and check them out!**


	7. The morning after

**Black ****Madness**

**.**

**Chapter ****seven****:**

**The ****morning ****After****. **

**.****sSs****.**

Cornelius Fudge knew that he was very ambitious. No emotion was more strongly felt that the desire to be powerful and influential and other adjectives that made him sound like an impressive wizard. He wanted to be the one everyone looked up to, the one they all turned to in a crisis. He wanted to see his face in newspapers, be interviewed on radio, and have his own private box at the Quidditch world cup. He wanted to mingle with the wizarding royalty of continental Europe, be invited to meet with the magical scientists of the United States, maybe even mix with the influential mystics of East Asia.

He was, in fact, driven by ambition. It was his sole goal, his dearest dream. It drove him to achieve in every aspect of his life.

But sometimes...sometimes, he was also driven by the bus.

The _Knight__-__Bus_, to be exact.

His beloved wife had told him that he couldn't distance himself from the people if he wanted his dreams to come true. She insisted that he had to see how they lived, be a part of them, and what better way then taking the bus?

He thought she might just be trying to get him out the house earlier so she could hold high tea with her upper class friends.

He grumbled slightly to himself as somewhere behind him a witch began to scream about…something. Something that was very loud and was causing a ripple effect of commotion through the three stories of the bus. He rolled his eyes at the easily-excitable wizarding community and tried not to punch the person to his left who was trying to steal his briefcase for _the __fourth __time_-

'_Calm __down__, __Cor_,' he told himself. _'__Calm __down__. __Think __of __your __media __training__. __Think __of __your __goals__. __Think __of __Doreen__. __Keep __calm__. __It is __only __for __a __moment__, __you__'__ll __get __off __the __bus __in __a __couple __of __stops __and __it __won__'__t __be __for __much __longer __and __keep __calm__, __for __ambition__'__s __sake__, __keep __calm__!'_

He clenched his fist, turning slightly to glare down at the man sitting in the seat to his left in what he hoped was a very intimidating way. The man smirked and flicked his long chestnut-brown hair over his shoulder. He was unshaven in the cool-looking way people in their twenties could get away with, but no one else could unless they wanted to look like they were homeless and eating out of rubbish bins.

This man was obviously _not_eating out of a rubbish bin though, as he was dressed in high quality robes of the latest fashion and carried himself with what could only be pure-blood superiority. The bus lurched forward and Cornelius struggled to stay upright, grasping the handrail tighter as he attempted to pull himself back into a reasonably straight position. The long-haired man didn't seem to be affected by the jolting movement, and simply smirked some more, shaking his head at Cornelius' attempts to regain his balance with amused smugness.

Cornelius slapped away a hand that was straying to close to his briefcase and huffed, turning to stare over a squat witches head and out the window on the other side of the bus.

"Cornelius!"

Cornelius turned away from the nuisance to see Augustus Rookwood from the Department of Mysteries fighting his way through the crowded aisle to where Cornelius was standing. He nodded at his acquaintance (for a friend was someone he trusted, and Cornelius most definitely _didn__'__t_ trust Augustus Rookwood) and straightened his Bowler hat. It was better to have many acquaintances then none at all. And at least with this acquaintance, he knew he wasn't trusted in return. The Unspeakable was only chatty because he _never _gave anything away.

"Augustus! it's good to see you."

"Indeed. You won't believe what I just heard. And apparently, it's straight from the horse's mouth!"

Cornelius smiled fakely. He didn't have time to exchange gossip. He also didn't have time to alienate potential allies. The election was only a year away after all.

"What is it?"

"They say, and this is gossip mind you, but they say that You-know-who has been defeated at last!"

…

Well.

He hadn't been expecting that.

'_Remember __the __Media __Training__!'_

"...Really?"

Augustus nodded, a carefully formed smile playing across his lips, stretching the pock-marks and scars adorning his face. Cornelius decided he really hated the old pureblood families sometimes. They were just too hard to read. Which was probably why Cornelius couldn't understand why Augustus' smile didn't quite match his eyes. Too bad they had such a powerful influence on the Magical Government, or he would get rid of them at the first chance he got.

"I know, that was my reaction too. No news yet on whether it's true or not, but I thought you might like a heads up."

"Ah, yes. Thanks."

The bus screeched to a stop and every one on the same level as them lent slightly to the front before jerking back into normal bodily positions. Augustus smiled, his icy eyes boring into Cornelius' with something that he couldn't read.

"It's alright. Keep an eye on the _Prophet_, I'm sure they'll have more information soon. I've got to go, this is my stop. See you around!"

With that, the Unspeakable disappeared amongst the witches and wizards. Now that he had been told about it, it seemed to be the only thing Cornelius could hear. Whispers and murmured speculations that flitted around him with increasing urgency were on the lips of everyone in the bus. Every one was speculating, discussing, debating it.

Except, it would seem, the man with the long hair that was exiting via the front door, Cornelius's briefcase safely in hand.

There was nothing on _his _lips but a very large smile.

**.****sSs****.**

Rabastan grinned. He grinned a lot actually, it was a favoured past-time of his. But this was a very smug sort of grin, because it wasn't every day you got to steal the briefcase of the junior minister of the Department of Magical Catastrophes that goes by the name Cornelius Fudge.

And as Rabastan still hadn't gotten over being given an unwarranted detention by the former head boy during his first year, he saw this as an event where a smug smile was a most necessary accessory.

But to look his best, he needed something … special.

He thought seriously for a moment.

A Fez.

He needed a fez.

Conjuring it up, he set the bright red hat down onto his head, his smile becoming bright and cheery at once. He strolled into the Leaky Cauldron to complete the errand Bella had sent him on (and hopefully get some breakfast - Bella had kicked him out before he could get any.) with a new found bounce in his step.

Wonderful thing, a Fez.

**.****sSs****.**

On the other side of London from where Rabastan was happily pickpocketing ministry officials for useful information whilst scoffing down a large plateful of bacon and lamb's fry, a large brown rat scurried out of a drain and onto a nondescript doorstep. Its form morphed quickly into a man, who fumbled with the lock for a moment before almost tearing the door of it's hinges in order to get inside.

Peter slammed the door of his bolthole shut and leaned back against the cool wood. He stood there for a long time, his pants and wheezes the only sound in the dusty house. A dog outside began to bark, and Peter flinched and jumped violently. With a violent shake of his head, he pushed himself off the door and stumbled his way into the kitchen. Frantically, he began to open cupboards and drawers, searching desperately.

"No, no, _no__,_ where are _they__?_ Merlin, _please__,_ oh _**fucking **__**hell**__**!**_ I _can__'__t_ have run out, I _can__'__t__,_ shit, shit, _**shit**_!"

He found what he was looking for in the cupboard under the sink, and quickly tore the seal off the vial before tipping the contents down his throat. He could feel the effects of the calming drought immediately.

"Shit..." He leaned back against the kitchen sink and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. He'd been awake all night, jumping at shadows and every little noise. It had taken him four hours to reach this little house on the outskirts of London. Paranoia stalked him no matter where he went. Everyone was an enemy, everything was a threat, he couldn't escape from the fear in his own mind.

He truly was a rat.

**.****sSs****.**

Lily walked slowly down the staircase leading to the entrance hall, hugging Harry close as he squirmed and wriggled in her grip. She nodded to a couple of early-rising students heading to the great hall for breakfast as they overtook her. They nodded back respectfully, giggling as soon as they thought they were out of earshot.

"Harry!"

Lily looked down at her younger son, who looked very pleased at his outburst. She smiled indulgently and tapped him on the nose.

"Yes, Harry. That's you!"

"Yes!"

She laughed at him, kissing his forehead softly. He pressed his hand against her cheek, pushing at it and struggling to get out of her hold. An adorable little scowl graced his chubby features. Lily simply laughed further, turning off at the entrance hall and entering the small dining room that the headmaster had set aside for the guests.

She was going to enjoy every moment with Harry, even if it killed her.

**.****sSs****.**

"Once upon a time that was long ago, in a land very far, far, far away, 'twas feeding time for the small red-haired monster known as a child...uh...Reg, gimme a hand here, would you?"

Regulus smiled lazily at his brother from across the table before returning his attention to the paper in his hands. Sirius was forced to realise that there was no help approaching on that front, and turned back to his quarry.

Jack simply stared at him, distinctly unimpressed.

"This child was so very, um, smart and clever that the house elves could never trick him into... eating his very yummy although slightly gross-looking pink porridge."

Regulus eyes twitched in an unmistakably roll-y fashion above the paper.

Sirius poked out his tongue quickly, then continued.

"Which is fair enough because porridge is pretty icky and pink's a kind of _odd_ colour for porridge, but his Daddy said he had to eat it before he ran away like a coward. Ah, the Daddy, that is, not the cilhd. The daddy is the coward. I'm sure the child-monster would be very, very brave if he was faced with unspeakable evils such as...pink porridge. Not at all like the cowardly daddy."

"Who are you calling a coward, Siri?"

Sirius looked up at the feminine voice as Lily approached their table, clutching a squirming Harry. Regulus nodded at her over his paper, spooned up a mouthful of his own porridge (so helpfully charmed turquoise by Sirius in a futile effort to get Jack to eat his own brightly-colored breakfast) before disappearing from view behind the _Daily __Prophet__. _

"Hey Lils. Mind giving a dog a bone?" He asked, dodging Lily's question with one of his own.

"Orridge!" Harry gurgled before Lily could reply. He was placed in his own highchair, and given his own bowl of pink porridge by his godfather as his mother took a seat beside Sirius. Harry smiled happily, scooping up a handful of his breakfast.

Which he promptly threw in Sirius' face.

"Want toast!"

"Oi!" Sirius said, wiping warm porridge off his face. "Make up your mind, Squirt!"

"Toast! Nana! Nana Toast!"

Sirius just stared at him. Regulus' eyes appeared over his paper to glance at Sirius, before he made a sound suspiciously like a snort and retreated behind his paper shield.

"Lily." Sirius said after a few seconds, "Your child is being _healthy_. Please make him stop."

Lily just smiled, and prepared Banana toast for the impatient toddler whilst Sirius pouted.

Jack whined sadly, "Nana toast." He said, looking at Harry's plate. Harry beamed at his brother triumphantly (if one-year-old toddler's _could_ look triumphant). Jack pouted. It took only seconds for him to realize the solution to his porridge problem, and only a few seconds more for Sirius to understand it.

"Ugh!" He spluttered, when a bowl of porridge gave him a glancing blow to his temple, then spilled across the floor.

"Chapter Two...The Porridge Returns..." He mumbled under his breath as he rubbed at the spot that had been hit by the bowl. Both Lily and Regulus snorted. Harry chortled with laughter and clapped his hands.

"Nana Toast!" Jack cheered, waving his arms at his mother, who smiled at him and cut up the toast into pieces the toddler could eat. Jack continued to cheer, as Harry happily munched away at his own pieces of toast. After swallowing the last mouthful of his first piece of toast, Harry joined in with his celebrations, waving a piece of toast around. He was cheerfully oblivious to the flying banana pieces spraying across the table. Regulus scowled when a piece landed in his bowl of porridge, which he'd actually been enjoying. The colour reminded him of his most recent attempt to create a long-term Invisibility Potion.

Kreacher had had highly entertaining hallucinations for a week and a half.

Mother had not been pleased.

Bella had thought it was the funniest thing since he'd set Sirius' hair on fire when he was eight, even though both incidents had been mostly accidental.

But that was a story for another day.

Right now, he had to find a way to defend his porridge from the toddlers across the table. He met Harry's cheerful gaze determinedly.

The game was _on__._

Harry had only just begun to pelt Regulus with mashed banana when James flopped gracelessly into the only empty seat. He edged away from Sirius slightly, despite the two toddlers sitting between them. Sirius simply smirked and wagged his eyebrows at his friend. James was about to speak when he got a faceful of banana, courtesy of Jack, followed quickly by Harry dumping a handful of banana and toast into James' hair. James spluttered a bit and flailed a lot, before sighing, and letting his forehead meet the table with a loud groan.

"Why aren't you eating, Sirius?" Lily asked, ignoring her husband's antics and the growing competition between Jack and Harry as to who could hit Regulus with the most banana (the youngest Black had formed a shield charm around his corner of the table, but the toddlers didn't know that). Sirius grinned at her.

"I had breakfast earlier, in the kitchens. Did you see me and Reg's art in the entrance hall?"

"No, but I _did _see Minerva cleaning up what looked suspiciously like magical graffiti from the ceiling." Lily drawled, raising one eyebrow at the dog animagus. Sirius pouted.

"Dammit, McGoogles! That took us ages to grow! It was in 3-D too!"

Lily just laughed. James raised his head up from the table and sent them a doleful gaze.

"I saw it. It was _horrible__." _

Lily laughed harder. James just sniffed, and turned to the wizard sitting next to him. Regulus raised an eyebrow at him, and continue to direct the flying pieces of banana to bounce off his shield and into the breakfast of the person sitting at the next table (James thought it might have been Kingsley, no scrap that, he _knew _it was Kingsley. The muscle-y baldness gave it away).

"What are _you _doing here?" He hissed. Regulus widened his eyes, and gestured to the spoonful of porridge he'd just put in his mouth. James waited while the cat animagus swallowed the turquoise mixture before raising an eyebrow expectantly.

"I'm here to see Professor Slughorn - I need to ask him about the properties of Dementor saliva when used in conjunction to acromantula venom." Regulus said. "For my Potions thesis." He elaborated when James looked at him uncomprehendingly. Lily suddenly looked interested. Harry placed a tiny hand over his father's mouth, preventing him from protesting the sudden change of conversation topic. Sirius snorted, and did the same to Jack.

"Where are you studying?" She asked. James looked horrified as Regulus turned to her with a scarily happy smile. Across the table, Sirius raised an eyebrow at his brother's cover story.

"Oh, at the Eclipse Academy for Magical sciences." He replied. "I'm studying advanced potions, ancient Runes and offensive magicks this year."

"Really? What's it like? I considered going there for university, but St Mungo's Healers Institute offered me a scholarship, and I didn't want to turn it down..."

Their new conversation continued along the same thread, growing and spreading out branches. James sent Sirius a terrified look, but the curse-breaker just sent him a lazy smirk from across the table and turned back to his original job of getting the toddlers to eat their breakfast.

James looked shocked at the betrayal, which, really, he should have seen coming.

It wasn't like Sirius was the most trustworthy of people at the best of times.

The doors to the the small dining room banged open, and a couple of very serious looking men with the Auror department's badge pined to their chests strode in, followed by Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. The general chatter of the room's occupants, mostly made up of the Order of the Phoenix (plus Regulus), was silenced as they all turned to look at the newcomers. For a long moment, the only sound was the dull murmuring of the students at breakfast in the Great hall.

"The ministry has been informed by Professor Dumbledore that last night the home of Mr and Mrs Potter was attacked by Death Eaters." A man with a gaunt face and impressive sideburns stated in a booming voice once he was sure he had everyone's attention. "We would like to interview the family involved, as well as anyone who went their aid after the wards were breached. It is very important that we have your complete co-operation, any information you may have is essential for the war effort."

Everyone was listening avidly to the Auror, and so were unable to witness the forms of two wizards as they shifted into distinctly more four-legged forms, nor did they see the pair disappear behind a tapestry and out of sight. They left no trace of their presence in the room other then a bowl of half-eaten turquoise porridge, and a large pink 'S&R' painted in very loopy handwriting on the ceiling, embellished with black roses, oddly happy-looking silver skulls, and some very realistic strings of pearls.

James and Lily looked at each other with worry.

What exactly was going on?

**.****sSs****.**

Sirius let his form shift back to human as he and Regulus crossed the last of the ward-lines. He scowled as he marched down the gravel path leading from the castle, swinging a conjured black cloak over his shoulders as he walked. Beside him, Regulus mimicked his action with slightly less anger and a pinch more angst. They met each others eyes in a brief glance before swiftly continuing on their way.

The ministry was moving.

There was no time to waste.

Without saying a word, they both disappeared with a _crack__!_

**.****sSs****.**

Bellatrix Lestrange generally considered herself a very strong woman. There was many things that did not faze her, not in the least her ability to torture someone until their very mind broke, without using a single truly dark spell. She had stood up and argued with the Dark lord, and gotten away with it. Men and women alike were absolutely terrified of her. She was one of the most feared witches in Britain.

Some things, however, still made her feel like a child getting scolded by their favourite house-elf.

Her sister was one of them.

"Puddles." Andromeda said dryly, her voice not giving away any of the anger Bella was certain she felt. "There are puddles on the ceiling."

"Ye-es." Bella said, attempting to widen her eyes and look like a kicked puppy. It didn't seem to be working, as the woman standing in front of Bella seemed to be unaffected. It wasn't fair - wasn't Bella supposed to be the elder sister? She had been born first! Why did Meda have to be so...no, not Sirius, that was her cousin. Who was a guy. She was looking for a word that sounded like Sirius but wasn't...Oh, Andromeda was speaking again.

" - Bella, Cissa and I left you here for a very short time whilst we went to pick up Nymphadora, and when we return, what do we find? That there are _puddles _on the _ceiling__." _Andromeda finished, staring at her sister. Bella blinked rapidly. She knew how to deflect accusing stares!

"I was entertaining Draco!"

Andromeda leveled a calm, blank stare at Bella. "That is _no _excuse. Especially seeing they are all over the manor." This was an awfully hard stare to deflect...Andromeda had gotten better at this.

Damn.

Bella pouted. "Well, it's not like they're _hurting _anyone..." She defended, staring up at one of her creations. The pinkish water rippled slightly as someone (Lucius, Bella thought absently, he had heavier steps then anyone else in the house) crossed the hallway on the floor above.

"They are a nuisance and will encourage mold and dampness." Andromeda stated. She was looking disapprovingly at her sister now. Bella felt like cowering, so she did. Dramatically.

Maybe dramatically cowering would beat this unbeatable stare.

Andromeda's expression didn't change.

"There's nothing wrong with a little mold!" Bella cried, flailing. Why wasn't it working?

Andromeda treated her with _that _stare again. "There is in a household with children, Bella. Actually, there is a problem with mold in every household outside of a male bachelor's grimy little flat in Knockturn alley! You would think that the _Lady __Lestrange _would know that!"

"Now, that's not fair-"

"AUUUUGH!"

They both flinched at the loud yell, wands out and argument forgotten as they hurried towards the foyer. The puddles on the ceiling above them shivered violently and even let loose a couple of droplets of water as heavy footsteps pounded down the hall on the floor above.

Bella skidded into the foyer, ready to curse whoever had yelled black and blue when she saw exactly who her target was. For a couple of silent seconds she simply stared, before bursting out in cackling continued to laugh as Andromeda stopped beside her, one eyebrow lifted in curiosity, and she laughed some more when Lucius appeared at the top the stairs all a-flutter.

"Stop laughing!" Rabastan said. He was dripping with pinkish water, his hair bedraggled and messy, and his clothes soaked. A scarlet fez sat forlornly on the floor beside him.

"What - in Salazar's name - happened?" Lucius asked from his place at the top of the stairs. Bella laughed even more. She hadn't stopped, because Rabastan had not asked nicely.

Andromeda sighed.

"It would seem that one of dear Bellatrix's creations has exploded atop of Rabastan." She explained with a sigh. "Bellatrix thought it would be funny to create puddles on the ceilings." She added, seeing Rabastan's confused look.

He didn't have time to reply before another puddle burst, sloshing pink water all over him.

Again.

"Bloody hell." He said over Bella's laughter. "I can't even walk through the front door without being attacked these days."

**.****sSs****.**

Barty sat in the window seat of his family's library, trying his hardest not to pout. Regulus had sent him a message through the enchanted mirrors to say that they were going to have to cancel their date - the ministry was already moving and Sirius needed Regulus' help. Barty knew that his boyfriend was sworn to serve the Lord Black above all others, but that didn't mean he had to _like _it.

'_I __really __have __to __get __over __this__,' _He thought with a sigh. _'__I __knew __Sirius __would __be __an __unbeatable __rival __if __Regulus __and __I __got __together__, __and __I __still __went __ahead __with __it__.__There __is __no __logical __reason __to __be __jealous__. __Especially __seeing __they__'__re __currently __saving __all__our __arses __from __a __lifetime __in __Azkaban__."_

He shook his head, trying to get rid of the negative thoughts, and ran a hand through his hair. He grinned slightly when he felt it spike up even more. There was no time to be musing on things he couldn't change when he should be musing on the things he _could__._ He returned his attention to the heavy book in his lap, and picked up his quill. He quickly immersed himself in...fixing his textbook. Really, how did these people think this was an effective method...

"Bartemius."

Barty flinched and looked up from his annotating of the Transfiguration text resting on his lap, his quill poised above the parchment. His father glared down at him, looking extremely out of place in the cosy library. Barty blinked. Despite what he'd told Regulus the night before, Barty hadn't actually _seen _his father in months. He'd had Winky notify him every time his father was home, rare as it was. He could see her now, peering around a bookshelf with worry. She looked like she was about to cry.

How his father had gotten past her, Barty didn't know.

He tried to suppress the desire to curse, to hurt, to _kill _that he always felt around his father_. _He knew his father wouldn't care that Barty was his son, if Barty showed signs of dark magic, or if Crouch Senior found out about Barty's..._alliances__..._ Barty was as good as dead. He'd be sentenced to Azkaban without a trial.

Bartemius Crouch Senior spared no one who might be convicted of criminal activity.

But Barty was the same, wasn't he? His father would not spare him the fate of a magical criminal, but Barty wouldn't hesitate to use his entire arsenal of torture techniques on the man who'd ruined his son's life with his mere presence (or lack of) and driven his mother into chronic illness.

Bartemius Crouch Junior spared no one who had wronged him the honor of becoming his newest target.

The only reason he wasn't cutting down this man now was because he didn't want to get blood on the carpet.

Winky had enough work to do as it was.

"Father," Barty said softly, schooling his face into an image of slight interest. All that time with Bella was beginning to pay off. Now, if only he could unleash his magic upon his father as well... "Is something wrong?"

Bartemius shook his head jerkily. "No. Get up." He stated, still glaring down at Barty. Without a word, Barty uncurled from his place on the window seat, setting _Animagi__ - __a __guide __to __advanced __human__-__animal __transfiguration _down on the plush cushion as he rose with all the grace Bella's teaching had installed in him. He met his father's eyes from behind a blank expression, noting absently that he was now taller then Bartemius Senior. That was new. His father had to lift his chin to meet Barty's eyes, which lessened the imposing aura surrounding the elder wizard. Barty fought to keep a smirk from his face.

He wasn't about to let his father attempt to intimidate him with one of the oldest tricks in the book.

His father gestured for him to walk, and he did so, still smiling bemusedly. Bartemius fell in step with him as they left the library. Barty had no clue where they were going, so he thought might be wise to ask, now that his father had proved he wasn't about to hex Barty. He'd had all the opportunities too, after all.

"Where are we going, Father?" He asked. Barty couldn't remember how he was supposed to act around his father anymore. Was he supposed to be quiet? He thought so, but it didn't seem quite right...he really wanted to see whether he could force someone to change into their animagus form without their consent...did animagus transformations hurt? Could he make them hurt?

"Downstairs. There is a couple of ministry officials who want to talk to you." Bartemius shot his son a glance from the corner of his eye. Barty continued to look pleasantly confused. It must be possible to make a forced transfiguration hurt, but he couldn't think _how__.._. "You _did _help deconstruct the wards at the Potter residence after the attack last night, I presume?"

Oh. So _that__'__s _what this was all about. Well, why his father hadn't his father simply sent Winky to get him? There hadn't really been a need to fetch Barty himself, had ther-

"Bartemius."

"Father?"

"Why did you help deconstruct the Potter's wards? You are not an employed ministry warding specialist. Surely there were more qualified wizards for the job."

And there was the answer to Barty's question. his father wanted to know why he'd been there, most likely checking for anything suspicious in Barty's reasoning. Bartemius didn't want to be potentially embarrassed by his son, whether by inexperience on Barty's behalf or more...sinister reasons. Bartemius Crouch didn't _care_about his family, he only cared about his job and his ambitions_. _Barty wondered what his father's animagus form was...something small and insignificant, most likely. He might as well grace his father with an answer.

"I am a free-lance warding specialist, father. The ministry occasionally forwards cases to me - so that I can get work experience before I graduate from Eclipse Academy, I expect. Is there a problem with that?"

Bartemius snorted, and Barty was sure that his father definitely had a problem with Barty's line of work. It wasn't the most prestigious of jobs that Barty could have chosen, especially when any and all Ministry departments would have been glad to take him. Barty had chosen his profession simply because it gave him a lot of freedom to pursue other... activities that Bella might set for him.

Being a Death Eater was hard work, after all, and that wasn't including Bella's lessons.

Not to mention he had a high maintenance boyfriend to attend to at all hours of the day.

It was lucky Barty was a genius.

He pushed open the door to the sitting room, flashed a smile at his poor, sick mother (she was shaking again...) before bowing to the two aurors seated on the couch. Their dark uniforms clashed horribly with his mother's disgusting choice of pastel-coloured upholstery. Barty flopped into an armchair, lounging back and grinning at his father's disapproving sniff. These two were interesting. He wondered if he could dig through their minds while they were attempting to interrogate him...there must useful information somewhere in those stupid skulls.

"Mr. Crouch?" One of the aurors asked, shuffling the sheets of parchment in his hands. "Uh, Junior?". The other one stayed quiet, preferring, it seemed, to glare at Barty suspiciously.

"That's me." Barty replied. He treated them with a broad smirk, whilst strengthening his mental shields and allowing his control over his magic to drop just a fraction. The lights flickered and he knew his eyes would glow for a second before he reigned in his magic and returned the setting to normal. He saw their eyes dart and meet in a confused glance, and he chuckled mentally with amusement. It was so _fun _to mess with the poor ignorant masses. He lifted his chin and stared directly into the gaze of his interrogator, feeling proud of himself when he saw the burly man gulp.

"What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

**.****sSs****.**

**Hello****~! ****Rae ****here****! ****And ****isn****'****t ****this ****a ****surprise****...**

**I ****think ****I ****have ****seen ****glaciers ****write ****quicker ****then ****us****. ****Not ****that ****glaciers ****can ****write****, ****which ****actually ****validates ****my ****comment ****instead ****of ****destroying ****it ****with ****a ****rainbow**** light****-****saber and a glass of mango juice and vodka.**

**Damn****.**

**Well****, ****at ****least ****i ****can ****tell ****you ****that ****after ****six ****chapters****, ****we ****are ****finally ****starting ****to ****progress ****with ****the ****plot****. ****That ****we ****do ****have****. ****Somewhere****. ****Hopefully ****we****'****ll ****have ****this ****finished ****before ****the ****decade ****is ****out****...**

**Not ****likely****, ****but ****a ****girl ****can ****dream****, ****no****?**

**This ****one ****was ****mainly ****responsible ****for ****this ****chapter**** (****hence ****the ****fact ****that ****this ****AN ****is ****being ****written ****from ****one ****person****'****s ****POV****), ****so ****any ****mistakes ****or ****errors ****or****...****glaring ****monstrosities ****can ****be ****credited ****to ****her****. Because i am too impatient to wait for Mikki to proofread..**

**You ****don****'****t ****want ****to ****see ****how ****slow ****we****'****d ****write ****without ****your ****lovely ****reviews ****to ****keep ****us ****motivated****. ****Keep ****them ****flowing****, ****darlings****!**

**P****.****S****. ****Rae ****should ****not ****be ****allowed ****to ****analyse ****HP**** - ****it ****tends ****to ****lead ****to ****long ****tangents ****about ****how ****the wizarding world's ****governing ****system ****doesn****'****t ****work****, ****and ****how ****it ****could ****be ****fixed****. ****Also****, ****how ****Purebloods ****fit ****within ****society ****and ****why ****the ****Black****'****s ****remind ****me ****of ****Russia****. ****Terrifying****, ****no****?**

**P****.****P****.****S. ****Can ****you ****guess ****what ****British ****TV ****program ****we ****were ****watching ****while ****writing ****the ****first ****part ****of ****this ****chapter****? I'll give you a clue - Rabastan's hat is cool. **


	8. Chess

**Black ****Madness**

**.**

**Chapter ****eight**** - ****Chess**

**.****sSs****.**

The music box didn't appear special. It was not striking to look at, nor did it have any apparent secrets if one turned it over in one's hand. And yet, it was quite possibly one of the most dangerous items Albus Dumbledore had held in his very long life.

This conclusion was formed simply due to the fact that Walbuga Black was the one who'd handed it to him.

The Black matriarch glared down her nose at him, silently watching as he examined the music box. She was quite obviously in a bad mood - the item in question apparently had some sort of blood ward on it, meaning only members of its chosen family could open it. And for some reason, that family was the Dumbledores.

Albus was beginning to suspect it might have belonged to his grandmother.

She had had similar views to Madame Black after all.

Albus didn't want to know how Walburga had come to possess the music box. Some of the curses he'd detected on it were rather nasty.

Walburga was no longer the beautiful sorceress she'd once been, he reflected, tapping the music box absently with his wand and reading the runes that appeared above the music box's lid. His thoughts were on the enigmatic woman sitting across from him - she was proving a much more interesting conundrum then the box she'd brought to him.

He remembered the teenager he'd taught - a far more likely candidate for becoming the most feared dark magical being then Tom Riddle ever was. They had even been at school together. If he remembered rightly (and he always did), she was two years older then Tom and had tutored him in Charms during her fifth year. She'd always been sneakier then half the Slytherins combined, and not above using her looks to her advantage. He wondered vaguely if the Blacks had Siren blood somewhere in their lineage, or perhaps Veela. The young Lords and Ladies of that House were always incredibly beautiful, and yet their family aged far quicker then any of their contemporaries...it was almost fascinating. Even Walburga's sons, young Sirius and even younger Regulus, had the same unnaturally beautiful appearance that their mother (and father, for that matter) had wielded in their youth, and their lovely cousins were no exception.

He glanced down at the music box and sighed. He could see no way into it, and he was simply not interested enough to put more effort into it.

Whatever this supposed blood ward was, it obviously didn't like him.

Maybe he could give the box to Aberforth for Christmas?

"No luck?" Walburga asked coolly. She looked as if he'd thrust something unpleasant and rotting beneath her nose. He couldn't help but sigh and placed the music box on the desk in front of him, watching as her pale eyes swept over the box and back up to meet his gaze. He felt a slight pressure behind his eyes and caught a glimpse of a wall of brambles before he blinked.

"No," He replied with all the cheerfulness he could muster. "I'm afraid not. It doesn't seem to like me very much."

She sighed softly and continued to glare at him for a couple of seconds, before rising swiftly from her seat. He stood as well, walking around his desk. Her hands were almost clawed, Albus noted, and there were no remaining vestiges of her former beauty in her wizened face. She'd always been a tiny woman, but Albus thought she could have shrunk, she was so short now. It was only the proper posture and mannerisms, not to mention the highly expensive gown, that acknowledged her place at the head of one of the oldest pureblood families in Britain. She seemed at least twice her actual age - and looked it too. It was making Albus curious.

Why would Walburga Black age twice as fast as her contemporaries in the other pureblood families...?

"If that is the case, Headmaster, then I must be going. You can keep the box - I have no need for someone else's heirloom." Walburga said crisply, straightening her robes fussily.

"Ah, of course. I am sorry I could not be of more help, Madame." He said courteously. "Let me escort you to the gate -"

_Crash__!_

Albus whisked round, to stare at the intruders of his office. His office door had been slammed open, disturbing more then a few of the paintings hanging above it. Their occupants stared down on the intruders curiously, a few were already beginning to smile and laugh behind their hands as they recognised the two men lying face down on the floor.

The two looked up and began to talk very, very rapidly over the top of one another.

"Sir, is it true - "

"We heard, Remus - "

" - Flitwick said that - "

" - that he _might _be - "

" - and we thought - Mother!"

"Yeah, we thought - wait, what?"

"Mother! You're my Mother!"

"No, I'm not - oh! Madame Black!"

Walburga sniffed, and looked down at the two intruders.

"Sirius." She said disdainfully. He waved from his place on the floor, and she scowled. His slight grin immediately turned into an expression more appropriate for the bedside of his best friend's death bed.

James didn't notice - he was too busy gaping at Walburga.

Albus smiled, eyes a-twinkle.

"Well." He said cheerfully. "I am sorry, Madame Black, but it seems Mr Potter and Mr Black have a rather urgent need to speak to me. Will you be able to see yourself out?"

He felt rather rude, dismissing her from his office, but he also knew better then to leave James Potter and Sirius Black alone in a room full of priceless artifacts. Last time he had made that mistake, James had ended up with the Sorting Hat stuck to his foot and Sirius had been attacked by suddenly sentient bookcases.

Walburga simply continued to scowl, glaring at Sirius as if he were something unspeakable stuck to the toe of her undoubtedly expensive shoe.

"I'm sure Potter will tell Sirius whatever needs to be told, Headmaster." She said coldly. Sirius gulped. "Sirius! Come!"

She swept from the room, Sirius scrambling to follow her with a speed rivalling a compulsion charm. The door slammed shut on Sirius' face as he turned back to mouth 'help me!' to James and Albus.

Albus stood in silence for a couple of seconds, before staring down at James, who was still lying on the floor.

"Aren't you going to help him, James, my boy?"

James shrugged.

"Nope."

**.****sSs****.**

Sirius followed his mother through the winding corridors of Hogwarts, a little put out. The silly Deer had not come to help him, despite _knowing _how Sirius felt about being around his mother.

Well, how James thought Sirius felt about being around his mother.

Sirius might have exaggerated all of those negative feelings a little bit more then necessary.

You couldn't be a true Marauder without some sort of drama, it was one of the rules of entrance! Prongs had his epic quest to win Lily's love, Remus had his 'rabbit infestation', even Wormtail had an unnecessarily over the top rivalry with that blue haired Hufflepuff girl.

...Maybe Hufflepuffs needed drama as well?

"Sirius. Stop walking so slowly, child!" Walburga snapped as they swept down the Grand Staircase and across the Entrance hall. They were lucky the students were in class - Sirius didn't want to be seen being dragged along by his mother when the older students would still be able to remember him in all his awesomeness.

He followed Walburga down the steps and into the waiting carriage - emblazoned with the Black Family crest and pulled by Thestrals - hoping desperately that she'd heard about what he'd been doing for the last year and was prepared to forgive him for running away without asking too many questions.

His mother hissed a few words at the driver - one of the Goyles, Sirius thought. A lesser son, or an illegitimate one of Geoff Goyle, probably, or maybe a squib - and the carriage jerked forward as the Thestrals began to move. The curtains pulled themselves shut, leaving the interior of the carriage lit only by the floating candles in the corners and casting shadows over the occupants like a black veil.

Walburga stared at him with an unreadable expression, studying him.

Sirius stared back.

"Sirius," His mother said softly, without taking her eyes off him. "Explain yourself."

Sirius squirmed. "About what, mother?" He asked equally softly. He wasn't sure why they were whispering, the silencing charms on the carriage stopped anyone from hearing anything that went on inside.

"Yesterday," She began. "The ministry made a rather important announcement, Sirius. They said that the Dark Lord had met his end. Do you know what they claimed killed him, Sirius?"

Sirius made a questioning sound in the back of his throat and stared at his hands. Shit, she knew, she knew, _she __knew_-

"They claimed," Walburga continued, at least externally oblivious to her elder son's discomfort. "That the Dark Lord had been beaten by a child, a mere infant. Whose child was that, Sirius?"

Sirius gulped and mumbled the name. Why did his mother still have this effect on him - he was the Lord Black now, surely her power would have died with his father...?

"I'm sorry, what was that, Sirius? I couldn't quite hear you."

"I said, it was James Potter's child who defeated the Dark Lord, mother." Sirius said clearly, dutifully.

Walburga's lips twisted into a slight smile.

"James Potter..." She said quietly. "Your _dear _James Potter. The ministry, Sirius, has declared James Potter's son the Wizarding world's saviour. Do you know what they are calling him, Sirius? They are calling him the Boy-who-lived."

"I see..." Sirius murmured, wishing she would get to the point. He watched as she tapped her fingers - already warped - upon her satin-covered lap. She was still dressed in mourning colours, dove grey and black, he noticed. Not at all like her usual rich Burgundy's and indigo's. Maybe she had cared about his father more then she had let on.

Such a shame, that.

"You know something, Sirius." She said in a mocking version of gentleness. "You know _far __more_ then you're letting anyone know. I want you to tell me. Tell me everything you are planning, child."

"I...I don't know what you mean, mother." Sirius said, flicking his eyes up to meet his mother's gaze, before looking down again. She scowled, and her hands clenched on her lap.

" I am not blind, child. You ran from our family six years ago, and refused contact with any of us outside of little Andromeda since then." She said in a dangerously soft voice. "Then last year, just after James Potter's Mudblood wife gave birth, you resumed contact. First you and Andromeda met with Regulus, then Bellatrix. Through them, you have been controlling both the Lestrange's and the Malfoy's, as well as that little genius Regulus likes, Bartemius. You have made them bide their time, stay out the Dark Lord's way. Almost as if you were...protecting them, distancing them from the Dark Lord. Then, quite suddenly, the Dark Lord falls, to a child of all people. A child that both you and Andromeda have had contact with. I am not blind, Sirius! Andromeda Black is a seer, and she is blood sworn to _you__! _You are planning something, child, something to do with our family, and you. Will. Tell. Me. WHAT. IT. **IS****!****"**

Sirius gulped as his mother's voice got louder and louder until it was reaching the blood-curling screech of his childhood.

He wasn't used to this.

He wasn't used to anyone asking him what he was planning directly, nor was he used to anyone analysing his actions this closely to try and find out what he was planning. Regulus and his cousins obeyed his orders, as odd as they might be, without question. As for the Order of the Phoenix...well, decent people were easily manipulated, and the Order was no exception. Why would it be? The Order had a black and white view of the world - they saw themselves as the Light, and the Death Eaters and the Dark.

They would never think that there was a darker wizard pulling the strings, not if that wizard fought on the same side as them.

Even James, Remus and (after she'd grown on him) Lily were not exempt - he loved them, true, but he was never the white sheep in the Black family as he'd always claimed. He never wanted them to know exactly how dark he was - they might have been able to accept Remus as a werewolf, but Remus had never _done _anything wrong.

Even at eleven, Sirius had not had that luxury.

How were they to know that the reason no Slytherin (besides Snape, but he was half-blood, so he didn't count) had ever truly retaliated against their pranks was because they were all scared of angering the Black heir? As soon as he had made friends with them, he had known they could never truly _know_ him. He would lose them if they did. So he'd let a little bit of the traditional Black madness that lurked in his mind come forth, making him seem like a bit of an eccentric, one that no one truly understood. He trusted them, because they didn't _know _the true him. He was sure, of course, that they had some subconscious knowledge of his power, but they would never turn against him. They had no reason to. He would protect them.

The only mistake he'd made had been trusting Peter - after all, Peter didn't know to go against a Black, he was half-blood and a weak hearted fool. He didn't know what sort of power Sirius wielded. He wasn't like James (who was from an old family himself - and who probably had almost as many secrets) and Remus (who, as a werewolf, had enough secrets as it was).

Peter would pay for that.

"Tell me, Sirius." Walburga hissed, interrupting his inner thoughts. Sirius could see her pupils expanding, bleeding into her irises, her cornea, until her eyes were nothing but gaping black holes in her head, ringed with silver light. He shivered. That she was still this strong, even though her body was warped by age and illness, was an immense testament to her determination. Most of her generation was already in the ground - but she was still going strong.

"Alright," He said, struggling to keep control of his own magic, which was attempting to lash out in a sympathetic reaction. "Alright, I'll tell you."

Her lips curled upwards in a horrible smile.

**.****sSs****.**

Lily sighed and pouted, wrapping her arms around her knees and leaned her head back against the cold glass of the window. She could see two figures far below, in the Castle's courtyard. They disappeared inside a black carriage done up with so many fancy trimmings she almost expected the Union Jack to be fluttering from the top. It pulled away soon after, without any flags, to slight disappointment. She sighed again, and watched as her breath fogged up the glass.

She hated the fact that she could see the Thestrals that pulled it.

"This is very typical of you," came a familiar voice from somewhere below her, in the stairwell. "When you're upset, your solution is to find some isolated, dramatic spot and brood. I let you read too many Gothic novels."

She turned slightly to look down at the stairs that spiraled below her perch in one of the window alcoves of the East Tower. A black-clad man stared up at her, the slightest of smiles on his sallow face.

"Severus," She acknowledged with a wry (and slightly watery) smirk. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Well," He replied. "I do work here, you know."

He stood to the side as she swung her legs back over the edge of the alcove, before leaping down. She landed on the staircase in a crouch, arms held outward for balance.

"Impressive." He said dryly. She grinned weakly as she rose, sweeping her long red bangs from her face as she did so.

"Yeah, I suppose..." She said, trailing off. She sighed. "I should get back to the boys..."

"Why were you hiding up here anyway?" Severus asked. He and Lily had managed to rekindle their friendship in the past year, after he'd begun to spy on the Dark lord for the Order. She wasn't sure how Dumbledore had convinced him to change sides, but she was happy he had.

"Hiding." She said calmly, sure that he would understand.

"Ah." He said. "From the reporters?"

"From the _owls_."

Severus nodded, apparently he had noticed the rudimentary wards she had added to her hiding spot.

"I'm surprised you haven't retreated to the Black Family nightmanor." The nickname provoked a small chuckle. "It's quite possibly the one place on Earth that no-one would think to look for you and I'm sure that your Black would welcome you into his home with open arms."

"I know...I honestly don't know what's gotten into him recently, though...James says that there's nothing wrong, but..." she trailed off, trying to form her scrambled thoughts into a sentence that would at very least make sense. "It's like there are two Sirius's...and I don't know this one. He's actually speaking to Regulus. Did you know? I haven't seen those two have a civil conversation since Third year, when Regulus was in First. Now it seems as if they never fought at all!"

"Blood is thicker than insane megalomaniacs?" Severus offered. "Although, that does depend on the type of thickness we're talking about, because they are both complete dunderheads, you know."

"Didn't Regulus have a better Potions NEWT then you? That's gotta mean something."

"Shut up."

Lily sighed, and ran her fingers through her hair in a habit she had, unfortunately, picked up from James (possibly he had some sort of fetish. Her hair had never been _stroked_ like that before they started dating...). She just felt so _tired__..._everything seemed to be happening very, very quickly, and none of it (save Voldemort _dying__, _'cause, you know, that's always a plus) seemed good.

Perhaps talking to Severus would get some of it off her chest and out into the open where it could be analysed and scrutinised at will.

Yeah. That actually seemed like a good idea.

"Can I tell you something, Severus?"

"Of course, Lily." Severus replied promptly, but warily. Generally, she was a blunt woman, and asking his permission to speak was something out of the ordinary for her. It obviously worried him.

"...Sirius wants to adopt Harry..." She murmured softly, a sad sort of frown causing her red eyebrows to knit together. "He said something about a prophesy, another one. Andromeda apparently foretold something to do with Harry, and Sirius thinks that he's in danger if he lives with us. His own family! And what with Jack suddenly being the wizarding world's saviour, a celebrity before he can even walk! I... I..."

"Lily!" Severus said sharply, grabbing her shoulder in an effort to calm her down. She was starting to hyperventilate, and could feel the beginnings of a panic attack...!

Severus's fingers grasped her chin, tilting her head up so that they could make eye contact.

"Lily. Calm down, you silly girl." He stated, completely deadpan. She struggled for a bit, but he held her still, too used to her panic attacks (though they were usually over exams) to let her go until he was certain she was completely calm.

"Deep breaths" He suggested, still watching her closely. She did as she was told, frowning slightly as she drew in air, forcing her breathing to return to a normal pace. The oxygen helped clear her mind, and she gave Severus a weak smile in response to his worried look.

"Ohhh..."She breathed. "Haven't done that in a while..."

He gave her a soft smile and started to guide her down the stairs.

"You're stressed, and tired. You need rest."

"Mm." She murmured, before shaking her head. "I'll see you later?"

"Of course."

**.****sSs****.**

"Ah, Severus, my dear boy! There you are!"

Severus nodded at Professor Slughorn, who was chatting to someone in the floo, and circled the potions professor's office to reach his desk. He ignored his mentor and set to marking the fifth year Ravenclaw's potion assignments. Slughorn chuckled and returned to his conversation, his fat belly jiggling with laughter.

Severus ignored him.

It was necessary to have studied under a master in a practical apprenticeship in order to gain a teaching post at Hogwarts, so Severus put up with the fat, prejudiced man on Dumbledore's request (the manipulative old man hadn't really given him a choice, so was it still a request?). He didn't have to like it, though. It wasn't just because he'd wanted the Defence post, no. He was convinced Slughorn was a horribly biased teacher, only truly teaching the students who had money and influence. Severus didn't like answering to someone who spoilt some children and broke others, that wasn't what teaching was about. Severus actually liked teaching, although his colleagues were another matter entirely. The fat man sitting across from him was nothing but a disgusting caterpillar that climbed the social ladder by using the influences of innocent students who relied on him.

It didn't matter that Severus had once done something similar. _Severus _didn't need to rely on the wealthy persons whom he'd befriended, in fact, he would make quite sure he never would.

The Lestranges and the Malfoys were wizarding nobility, yes, but even they were tied to the little finger of a higher class. Severus wasn't quite prepared to lay his life in the palm of a Black.

He'd seen what they could do.

The last couple of years at the Dark lord's side, deeply embedded in his friends' political and social machinations, had convinced Severus Snape that Sirius Black was a first class liar, and a manipulative sod, to boot. Either that, or he had thrown away the chance to be one of the most influential and powerful wizards in the United Kingdom in a fit of childish rage.

He'd been so sure it was the latter, that Black was so _stupid__, _that he was such an egotistical _imbecile _that he hadn't realised exactly what he'd thrown away when he'd run away from the Blacks.

Severus wasn't particularly pleased that he'd been proven wrong.

Black might have run away, but he'd never left.

Everything Severus had witnessed proved that.

But now...Lily had said Black wanted to _adopt _her younger son. She'd mentioned Andromeda...who had been at the Malfoy manor the night before last. She'd mentioned a prophesy, another one...how did that affect the original one? What was it, exactly? For it obviously was to do with Harry Potter...

What was Sirius Black planning?

Severus scrawled a large '_D_' in the corner of the paper he was marking and scowled.

He had a lot to think about.

**.****sSs****.**

Andromeda Black was in a good mood. The sun was shining over Malfoy manor, lighting up the grounds delightfully. Nymphadora had dragged her new-found uncles out to play with her on the lawn , her laughter madly infectious as she darted in and out of Rabastan and Rodulphus' reach.

Lucius had collapsed in the shadow of a large oak tree, worn out by his niece. His pale hair surrounded his head like some sort of exotic fan, and baby Draco was clambering over his father's stomach in pursuit of a magically-created fairy.

Behind her, sitting at the iron-wrought patio table, Bellatrix and Nymphadora were, for lack of a better word, plotting. Andromeda was sure she had heard her husband's name in their whisperings, but let it go with a soft chuckle.

Her unfaithful husband would think twice about looking at another woman again after those two got their claws on him.

She glanced down at the letter she held, and smirked. Regulus had played his part, and wonderfully too. The Potters were being plagued by the wizarding press, who all wanted a piece of their little savior. A wave could beat upon a rock and seemingly get no where, but all it needed was patience, and the rock would eventually be worn down.

Above all, everyone was falling nicely into the places she had set up for them. The thought of it made her painted lips curve upwards. Everything was going as planned; the prophesy would be fulfilled, and the family Curse ended.

No wonder Sirius loved chess so much.

**.****sSs****.**

**Ah****, ****Rae ****here****! ****Mikki****'****s ****off ****at ****an ****exam****, ****so ****i****'****m ****writing ****this ****AN ****today****~! ****I****'****m ****so ****surprised ****we ****managed ****to ****write ****this ****chapter ****so ****quickly**** (****for ****us****, ****anyway****. ****haha****, ****we****'****re ****so ****slooow****~)! ****And ****we****'****re ****actually ****getting ****somewhere ****with ****the ****plot****! ...****finally****...**

**So****, ****what ****I ****wanted ****to ****ask ****our ****darling ****reviewers ****today ****is****:**

**What d****o **_**you **_**think ****of ****our ****writing ****style****? ****Is ****the ****POV ****jumping ****annoying****, ****or ****cool****? ****Do ****we ****need ****to ****flesh ****things ****out ****a ****bit ****more****? ****Are ****we ****moving ****too ****fast****, ****or ****too ****slowly****? ****Do ****you ****even ****understand ****what****'****s ****going ****on****? **

**Just ****a ****bit ****of ****critique ****would ****be ****lovely****, ****if ****you ****can ****spare ****the ****seconds ****to ****write ****a ****review****. ****I****'****d ****like ****to ****see ****what ****the ****readers ****think ****of ****our ****style****, ****so ****we ****can**** (****hopefully****) ****improve****~!**

**Also****. ****Sirius ****quotes ****canon****! ****Barty ****Crouch ****Jr****. ****in ****his ****monologue ****up ****there****. ****Can ****you ****find ****the ****quote****? (****I****'****ll ****give ****you ****a ****hint**** - ****it****'****s ****from ****the ****chapter ****where ****Barty ****is spilling****his ****secrets ****via ****polyjuice ****potion ****in ****GoF****.)**


	9. Parties for all occasions

**Black Madness**

**.**

**Chapter nine - Parties for All Occasions**

**.sSs.**

**AN: Alright guys, try not to have simultaneous heart-attacks. As amusing as it would be for Mikki, Rae does not want her darling readers to die or suffer painful injuries. We updated early for once, so early that if we had a schedule it would be considered on time. **

**Aren't you lucky?**

**Oh, and for future reference, a boogle is a group of weasels.**

**.sSs.**

Ted Tonks was worried. He'd woken up on November the first, 1981, to find his bed empty. This was not particularly uncommon - his wife often rose with the sun, despite refusing to get a job. The problem had been that he couldn't remember if she'd actually come to bed the night before.

That was somewhat worrying.

He did love Andromeda, he really did, he just wasn't _in love _with her. At least, this is what he kept telling himself whenever he felt the twinge of guilt at what he was doing behind poor, unsuspecting, sheltered Andromeda's back.

When they had run away together, it had seemed so exciting, an adventure! He was common, a muggle-born, and she was a high-class pureblood who wanted an escape from the pits of Slytherin and the constraints of her family name. Their love had been a burning inferno, and they had been so sure nothing would get in their way!

What he hadn't expected came eight months later, in the form of a baby. A baby that had hair that changed color, that was so obviously _magical_ it scared him. A baby he couldn't show off to his catholic parents. A baby Andromeda had not told him about until it became painfully obvious she was expecting. Andromeda had explained how the pureblood families all had... _mutations, _mutations that showed up as metamorphs, or empaths or seers or other such abnormalities_. _She had explained it as being the result of a high level of magical concentration in the blood, but Ted knew better. He'd done Biology in muggle school. The so-called 'purebloods' were all inbred, of course there were mutations! And there were all sorts of other complications caused by marrying your cousins, he knew.

Insanity was just one of them.

He had stood in that hospital, watching Andromeda coddle Nymphadora (who called their daughter that, anyway? It was a horrible name!), and he had seen that his wife, beautiful though she was, was also touched in the head. She was also a spoilt little girl, from his perspective. She refused to get a job, and was completely incapable of understanding _why _Ted wanted her to work in the first place. She was spoilt, manipulative, nasty and now he could see that she was insane to boot.

So there he was, nineteen and saddled with an insane wife and a mutant daughter.

And _here _he was, twenty-seven, with no idea where said insane wife and mutant daughter were.

Nymphadora had been there when he woke up on November first he knew, because she had complained about his cooking at breakfast. He had had to take her with him when he met up with Olivia for lunch, but his mistress didn't like her. Not. one. bit. And Nymphadora refused to behave. It was as if Andromeda had not taught the child decent manners at all! He had taken the girl straight home, and left her playing in her room as he nursed his sorrows with a stiff brandy.

The only highlight of the day before had come over the radio. He-who-must-not-be-named had been defeated by a toddler!

...Now, if only Ted could have been celebrating with Olivia instead of searching aimlessly for his metamorphic daughter, who, to his horror, had disappeared from her room, when he'd explicitly told her to stay_ put._

The time for Nymphadora to go to bed came and went, but the girl had vanished completely. Ted had searched, half-hearted at best, wishing _he _could go to the parties that were starting all over England, instead of searching for a wayward eight-year-old. Now it was the second day of November, sun up. He hadn't slept and he still hadn't found Nymphadora. His only clue was a letter - sealed with a crest that he vaguely recognised - but he couldn't touch it. It had burnt his fingers when he did. It was addressed to him though, which made him all the more worried.

Andromeda was going to _kill _him.

**.sSs.**

"Bloody paperwork." Kingsley sighed. When he'd signed up for the Auror training, he'd had no idea that there would be so much paperwork involved.

He'd thought it would be all glorious battles (forms B6-17, S1-13 and possibly R 3-29 depending on how much damage was done to Auror or civilian property) and arresting Death Eaters (most of the above, plus forms D8-12 and D19, as well as I1).

And if he thought it had been bad while the Dark Lord was alive, well, that was before the Minister decided to reorganise the trial process for 'faster and more efficient use of Auror time and a quick and easy trial process'.

What it really meant was that anyone who hadn't been seen acting as a Death Eater by at least three witnesses didn't have to take Veritaserum, or even undergo a proper interrogation. Just a bloody interview in front of a panel of Wizengamot members. If they couldn't find a record of unjustified illegal or harmful spells, then the Death Eater walked free.

"Useless old fools." He mumbled, looking around nervously as he did so, he still wasn't quite used to the idea that grumbling about his superiors was, if not encouraged, at least to be expected.

This time, his caution paid off.

"Merlin!" He yelped, ducking automatically as a bright red Stunning charm shot towards his head. By the time it dissipated harmlessly against the wall of his cubicle, his wand was in his hand and he'd sent a Body Bind curse back along it's path, quickly followed by another to each side.

Then everything went black.

He shot instantly back into consciousness, which signified the use of an _rennervate_. He tried, without much hope of success, to wordlessly summon his wand. After all, if Death Eaters had infiltrated the -

- **SMACK**

"Youch!"

"**CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"**

Kingsley relaxed as much as one could in Mad-Eye Moody's presence."Hello Mad-Eye. I take it that we haven't been invaded then?"

A grizzled face popped into view above him (the man had been hiding under an invisibility cloak, the bastard), "Are you sure, lad? How do you know that I'm not Poly-juiced or glamoured?"

"Your eye is too detailed for a glamour to work well and your breathe doesn't smell of fluxweed."

Mad-Eye grunted approvingly and swung his cloak off his shoulders, so that he was completely visible, "Wouldn't have expected you to know about the fluxweed. Good job, Shacklebolt. However, your spells need work, you should have been able to get of a shot below and above the originating zone before I knocked you out. And for Merlin's sake boy, you can't go screaming and carrying on in a fight, unless you want to be hit!"

Kingsley nodded. "Sorry, sir, you're right. I'll schedule a few extra hours in the Training Hall tonight."

"Hmm." Mad-Eye responded, "See that you do. Are you almost ready to start processing the interrogations? We've got the Purebloods up first, the ones who want to ensure they have clear names in public as well as gold in the Minister's pockets."

"Wonderful, the Malfoys and Lestranges, and all of the less important families then. I knew that my life was missing something, whoever would have thought that a bunch of snooty Purebloods looking down their noses at me would fill that void." Kingsley grumbled. Mad-Eye nodded, Purebloods, even impoverished ones, were always the worst people to haul in. Either they were convinced of their own superiority, or so paranoid they could put the American Congress of Magic to shame.

Kingsley sighed. "We'll be ready on time, all that's left is prepping the paperwork and we still have a week to finish it all."

"Better you than me, son." Mad-Eye chuckled, abandoning him to his filing.

**.sSs.**

The Auror took Bellatrix's wand from her outstretched hand and cast the spell for the final time. Rabastan quickly slid his own wand back into its holster, which was presumably hidden somewhere in his voluminous charcoal coloured robes. A glowing 'quill' appeared above the trio's heads and began to write out a list of all the spells Bellatrix had performed in the last three months.

First came the tickling, cheering and cleaning charms which had replaced hexes and curses during Bellatrix's final months serving the Dark Lord. From the days after his defeat were dozens of spells for the conjuration and enchantment of wine and fireworks and other spells of a celebratory nature.

Bellatrix blushed as they scrolled down.

"Oops." she said. "I did get a little carried away, didn't I?"

Rabastan snorted.

Finally, from the last month were household and personal spells, ones to touch up hair or makeup, an 18th century ward to keep a husband from sleeping anywhere but the couch for a week, a few simple conjurations of enchanted butterflies and small, non-venomous snakes, over the last few days were summoning charms and transfigurations.

And then the quill wrote out the final spell and Sirius winced.

Crouch's scowl vanished.

"Madame Lestrange." He purred, practically _oozing_ triumph, "Would you care to explain to the Wizengamot about the _castra doleor_ hex you performed yesterday afternoon?"

Bella giggled coquettishly and batted her long, dark lashes in his direction. Beside him in the witness box, Regulus shuddered in disgust.

"Of course, Sir." She said breathily, "But if we could please not gossip about it for a few days?"

She looked at him expectantly until he realized that she wouldn't continue until he agreed. Sirius was sure that he was regretting the ban on Veritaserum in preliminary trials.

Finally, he nodded reluctantly. Bella smiled cheerfully and clapped her hands. The Auror reached automatically for his wand.

"Well, Sir," She batted her lashes again, "It says in The New Pet Owner's Guide to Puppies that all boy dogs should be castrated to make them more obedient and less aggressive. _Castra doleor_ is the only one I know." She leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered, "My mother taught it to me when I went to Hogwarts."

Crouch looked flummoxed and disappointed, obviously he'd been hoping for something slightly more sinister so that he could justify bumping the Lestranges into the 'justified suspicion' interview category.

However, he recovered quickly.

"In that case, Madame Lestrange, why did you not simply take the animal to St Margy's in London so that a professional could perform what is obviously a dangerous and highly delicate operation?"

Bella tossed her head, her wild curls flying with the motion.

"I considered it, but when I talked to my Family Head, he told me that his brother had told him that a wizard he met down at the Silver Selkie last weekend had told _him_ that he'd heard his cousin's wife say that her sister's friend's daughter's housemate's aunt-" Crouch had started to look a little confused "-had taken her employer's brother's business associates cat into Saint Margy's in and had to wait six weeks for an appointment! I simply could not wait that long. I'm sure you understand, Sir."

Crouch nodded dazedly, "Right, right."

"Oh good. After all, my darling niece's birthday is tomorrow," Bella flicked her eyes down and slumped her shoulders slightly, "and well, I'm sure you've heard about her father, the Prophet mentions it every Tuesday. Andromeda is inconsolable. Missing for over a month, presumed dead..." Bella heaved a sigh. She twitched her shoulders, pulling herself back upright. "Anyway. I always thought that every little girl should get a puppy for her ninth birthday, though I do hope Headmaster Dumbledore will consider loosening the restrictions on large pets at Hogwarts soon. It's always so heartbreaking to have to leave your beloved companion behind when you go off into the wider world. And there are so many pet-related infractions every year, surely a thorough investigation into the rules is required in order to identify and resolve the problem."

"Why, yes. You're quite right Madame Lestrange, quite right indeed." Crouch blustered, looking completely lost. The rest of the Wizengamot were not faring much better. Sirius wondered how many of Bella's words had been reinforced with a wandless confusion jinx.

Bellatrix smiled sweetly at wizards and witches who were supposed to be finding a way to send her to Azkaban for life. At Sirius' side, Regulus lent forward a bit. Watching Bella bamboozle people was always fun.

"Oh, and I must confess something, Minister." She chirped. Crouch sat up in his chair, and glared down at her.

"And what is that, Madame Lestrange?" He demanded. She giggled slightly and covered her smile lips with her hand.

"You picked up a burning hex on my husband's wand from last Friday. I must confess minister, that was my fault." Crouch looked set to imprison her immediately, but she carried on and ploughed over his attempts to speak. "You see, I have been trying to get my house-elves to take regular holidays, they work ever so hard and I would hate it if one collapsed in a corridor somewhere...however, I found myself in a little dilemma last week...all my house-elves were out for the day and I fancied a snack. I couldn't bare the thought of visiting my sisters uninvited, and for such a silly reason..."

She trailed off, and to Sirius' utter amusement, actually managed a blush. Crouch was once again looking completely lost. Rodulphus and Rabastan, however, looked like they were reliving bad memories.

"Oh, Minister, you must understand. I'm a spoilt girl. I haven't cooked in my life!" She giggled and sent the minister a coy glance. Rodulphus' mutter of "Damn straight!" didn't go unnoticed by the court and spectators, but Bellatrix continued regardless.

"I was so _hungry_, and Rodulphus' wand was _just there..._Can you forgive me?"

Crouch looked confused. Behind him, Barty was practically in silent hysterics.

"What exactly did you do, madame?" Crouch asked. Rabastan coughed, drawing everyone's attention to him.

"I can tell you, Minister." He declared. "She ruined a perfectly good steak! Burnt it to cinders!"

There was a general gasp from the male members of the room, some going so far as to look horrified at what they obviously considered a first-class crime.

"And that's not all, "Rodulphus said ominously. Bellatrix actually looked embarrassed_. _Sirius was going to be able to create a patronus on this memory alone!

"Not only did she ruin the steak," Rodulphus continued, looking morose. "She actually tried to make us _eat_ it!"

"It should be a crime," Rabastan agreed. "Bellatrix, as much as we love her, should not be allowed to cook." He visibly shuddered.

"Was it really that bad?" An anonymous member of the Wizengamot (who sounded suspiciously like Griselda Marchbanks) called out. The two male Lestranges nodded empathically.

"Yes!" they chorused.

Bella pouted.

"It was not!"

**.sSs.**

"Please remind me, my _darling_ wife," Lucius ground out between gritted teeth, "why we have a Boogle of Blood-traitors on our lawn?"

Narcissa laughed lightly, "Because we volunteered to host our beloved niece's birthday party and my sister forced me to agree to let Nymphadora invite whoever she liked."

"Has anyone ever seriously investigated the possibility that your entire bloodline is dangerously insane in a negative fashion?"

"I think so. It would have been back in the 16**th** Century though, and things can change a lot in four hundred years." She said, rather cheerfully.

Lucius snorted, and looked out at the lawn, where William Weasley was telling some sort of story to a spellbound Nymphadora and Charles Weasley. Arthur Weasley, curse the man, was chatting with Rodulphus and Rabastan near the fountain. Another of the Weasley brood (Percival, he thought, the boring one) was sitting at his father's feet, listening to the conversation with a frown.

"For the worse, I reckon." He added softly to the end of Narcissa's comment.

Narcissa hummed, and looked over to where Regulus was lying sprawled on the grass, Barty's head on his chest as he paged idly through some sort of advanced warding manual.

"I'm not so sure about that. You and Severus could never have acted as those two do."

Lucius was still trying to decide how to answer that, when his idiot cousin-in-law flew out of the drawing room fireplace accompanied by two small children. At least he landed on his feet this time.

"Black!" He shouted, annoyed at the man's cavalier attitude towards the children's safety. Every half-way responsible parent knew that you should only travel with one small child at a time to minimize accidents!

"Yes?" Half the guests called back.

Lucius sighed and went to nag his fellow Lord.

Some days it just wasn't worth getting out of bed.

**.sSs.**

Because he was off nagging Sirius, Lucius (who actually quite liked children) missed Nymphadora tugging on his wife's robes.

"Auntie Cissa!"

"Yes?" Narcissa asked, trying not to laugh at her husband's straight-spine-d stalk of sulkiness and turned to look at her niece, who had bright pink hair and new sky blue robes for the occasion. Her hair had been tied up into pigtails, courtesy of Bella. At least the girl kept the tails long enough for them to look somewhat dignified...

"This is my birthday, right?"

"Yes..." She replied.

"And Charlie's was last week, right?"

"I suppose so." She agreed, not actually sure but assuming that the boy knew his own date of birth (it was sometimes a risky assumption with Weasleys).

Nymphadora turned excitedly to Bill. "See! That means we should get married! Married people share stuff so it can be your birthday too. Then you can get presents."

Bill looked nervously at Charlie, who was glaring at him hard enough that he was amazed his robes hadn't caught on fire.

"Wouldn't it make more sense for you to marry Charlie?" He offered seeing his short life flash before his eyes, "Since you already share a birthday?"

"Yeah, besides, Bill had his birthday last month." Charlie said, glare lessening slightly. "You came to the party."

Nymphadora shook her head and dragged William off to make Regulus be a flower-girl. Narcissa tried to hide her smile, the girl was definitely a proper Black, she knew exactly what she wanted and she went ahead and got it.

She should probably start drawing up a marriage contract.

**.sSs.**

"And then Uncle Barty can be the priest-y thing-"

"- Magistrate." Barty inserted.

"Right, and Charlie can be my best man."

"I don't really want to-" Bill tried to reason after Charlie stomped on his foot.

"And Regulus, you're Bill's flower girl. Am I missing anything?"

"Rings." Sirius said, walking over with her two little-est cousins safely secured in a double-pram. He'd only just escaped the frighteningly over-protective hero of infants himself, Lord Lucius Malfoy, who had insisted on preemptive measures. Seemed to have something against Sirius' entrance, weird chap...

Dora shrieked and ran up to throw her arms around his legs. "Uncle Sirius!"

Sirius winked at Bill, "Better let Black women get what they want." He told him, drawing his wand and proceeding to transfigure Dora's robes into a lacy white dress with a puffy skirt and sleeves. He plucked a few blades of grass and turned them into a pair of matching rings, complete with sparkly diamonds.

Bill and Charlie had matching expressions of horror, for different reasons.

"How about Reggie is the Ring-boy, and there can have three Flower-babies instead?" Sirius offered, noticing his brother's thankful expression. "Where is the other little tyke anyway?"

"Watching the other-twins' accidental magic." Barty said, pointing towards where Bella and Molly were sitting in frosty silence on the patio. The three-year old twins had been placed in a playpen near their mother to keep them out of trouble, and Draco's distinctive white-blond hair was visible as well.

"Right." Sirius said. "Wait here," he told Dora, putting Jack and Harry on the ground. "And don't let your cousins get into trouble. Lily will murder me if they get hurt."

Dora puffed out her chest at this display of trust. Bill looked dubious, but Sirius didn't blame him. The kid was obviously jaded when it came to magical twins. Harry gurgled happily, and planted an open palm on Jack's cheek with gusto.

"Excuse me, ladies." Sirius said, once he had reached the pair, who were both staring fixedly into space away from the other.

"Yes?" They said together, glaring at each other when they realised what they'd done. Oh, how the mighty Syltherin/Gryffindor alliance had fallen!

"Could we borrow Draco? And maybe Fred and George? Dora wants a matched set of Flower-babies for her marriage to Bill, and I thought Fred and George could be Bill's Best-babies." He looked around, Narcissa, the clever woman, had found a camera and joined the group.

Bella was obviously fighting between her hurt feelings in regards to Molly and their failed friendship and her desire to dress her niece in pretty clothes and teach her to get guys. Bella was of the opinion that it was never too young to start. Rodulphus didn't disagree, but those two had known they'd be married since a similar family gathering on their _sixth_ birthdays. Rod had had to clean up the trail of broken-hearted and sometimes viciously assaulted hopeful suitors Bella had left in her wake for years.

However, Molly smiled easily, "That's so sweet. I'll bring them over right now. Did you transfigure her dress?"

"Yup." Sirius replied, scratching the back of his neck with his wand. "Coming, Bella?"

Bellatrix sighed, rising smoothly to her feet.

"Very well." She scooped Draco off the ground, wobbling slightly due to her incredibly high platform boots.

By the time they'd arrived, Dora had persuaded someone, probably her mother, to transfigure suits for Bill and Charlie. Regulus and Barty wore matching robes, refusing point blank to wear trousers. Sirius sympathised - trousers were plain bloody nuisances. He didn't like wearing them either, but Mcgonagall had always insisted that he come to class fully clothed and that a slightly over-sized t-shirt, shoes and socks did not count as 'fully'. Although, Reg didn't seem to oppose to trousers in the slightest when it came to muggle concerts and punk clothing...maybe he just wanted to match with Barty?

Sirius presented the babies to Dora for her approval. Draco waved at the Potter twins, of which only Harry waved back.

"They need to wear dresses." She said solemnly. "Like mine."

Sirius nodded, and went with three #12 Marauder specials. Size small.

Draco, Harry and Jack were promptly clothed in frilly, lacy dresses in white with pink accents.

Narcissa, being a very clever woman, snapped half a dozen photos with her magical camera as soon as he was done.

"These are for their seventeenths." She whispered with a conspiratorial wink.

Sirius winked back, and transfigured Fred and George's sensible dungarees into sharp purple suits made of imitation dragon-hide. He considered them for a second, then added matching top-hats and miniature canes, each with a fake diamond the size of a twin's fist on top.

"There we go!" He said, recapturing Dora's attention from Barty who she was 'instructing' about his speech.

Barty surreptitiously wiped his forehead.

"Perfect!" Dora exclaimed.

Andromeda managed to suppress her giggles long enough to create some seats for the audience and a small podium thing for Barty to stand behind and sound impressive. The Malfoy's garden was already decorated prettily, so Andromeda simply changed the pink and yellow party decorations to white and pink weddings ones instead.

"Ah, Dora, dear!" Bellatrix called out, hurrying over to the bride/birthday girl. Sirius looked up and started paying attention when his cousin presented the little girl with a large purple box.

"This your present from me, sweetie." Bellatrix cooed as Dora squealed and latched onto the present. "Why don't you open it now?"

"Okay!" Dora chirped, tearing into the wrapping paper. Sirius watched with a raised eyebrow as the present was unwrapped with gusto, until Dora gave out a scream of delight.

"A puppy! Mummy, mummy, Auntie Bella got me a _puppy!_"

A slightly tubby brown puppy was lifted from the box, a green and silver bow around it's neck. The other guests and family members crowded around to get a look as Dora cuddled the puppy to her chest.

"What's his name, Auntie?" She asked, petting the puppy's floppy ears.

"I've been calling him Theodore...Teddy for short."

Dora shook her head.

"He'll be called Dory! Like me! Dora and Dory!" She declared. Bella smirked and nodded, standing up from her crouch as her niece went to show her mother her new pet.

"Teddy, huh?" Sirius muttered as she moved past him. "Like Ted?"

Bella's scarlet lips curled up into a nasty smile.

"Yes." She murmured back. "Exactly like Ted."

**.sSs.**

Later, squished around a private booth in the Three Broomsticks, Sirius would tell the story of the party to Lily and James, give them copies of the best photos, and receive incredulous and slightly non-believing looks in return.

In the immortal words of Professor Flitwick (Marauders Second year Adventures; part 2):

"No group of children should be capable of causing so much chaos. Now go get rid of those frogs."

**.sSs.**

"The wedding was tasteful, elegant, completely perfect.

Diana looked lovely and Charles -

- Oh, the Black-Weasley nuptials? Why didn't you say so, Prongs?

...No, I haven't been _watching_ the royal wedding, seriously. Who do you take me for, Reggie?

Don't answer that.

Anyway.

Dora floated up the aisle, escorted by Lucius as a punishment for trying to escape the festivities. He had claimed an allergy and backed it up with a series of oddly shaped red and purple marks on his upper body. Might have worked, but Cissy burst out laughing right at the wrong moment. Guessing ole Lucius had a few good nights recently.

Bill stammered, stuttered and flinched his way through the ceremony. Charlie stood right across from him and we can only be thankful that he has some control of his accidental magic and is more scared of his mother than he was pissed at Bill, otherwise something might have happened to the poor boy.

Regulus managed to get the rings up to the front of the aisle without bursting out in laughter at Barty's waggling eyebrows. Barty waggled his eyebrows at my baby brother far more than I think I can approve of.

Your spawn were well behaved and Draco didn't wander off and get lost, which is an improvement on any day in the last six months according to my sister. Did you know she once found him stuck in a quidditch hoop? Gave her the fright of her life.

Molly's twins on the other hand. Phew, glad I'm not responsible for them. They found a spider, you see. And then, well. Turns out that copying spells are well within the repertoire of three year old and the wedding had to be delayed for twenty minutes while we calmed Charlie down.

No, no, he wasn't scared, Dora got a bit of a fright when one crawled across her shoe and screamed a little. Charlie went berserk trying to get rid of it and then he started in on his twins, and, well.

I'm sure you can picture how Molly reacted.

So, before the vows have even been said the groom's a nervous wreck, the best man is exploding things left right and centre, glad he didn't hit the presents, that could have been gross. My brother is flirting with his boyfriend and Lucius is glaring at them both, pro'lly 'cause they were acting "inappropriately" in front of children. Weird chap, that Lucius. Molly is yelling, of course, and then Bella starts yelling at her for scaring the kids and it all kind of devolved.

True. I forgot about that damned dog.

Luckily it's a bit of a coward, at the first sign of trouble he dove under a bush. Howled up a storm though and bloody well bit Bella when she went to haul him out. Luckily, Bella _did_ do that Healing Course, so it wasn't really a fatality...

'course, the kids start crying once all this happens, so that's five squalling infants and nobody knows quite where to start fixing things cause as soon as you calm one down the others set it off again.

Dora's got a good head on her shoulders though.

She got Bill working on Dory, and calmed Charlie down so he eventually stopped shooting fire out of his fingers.

Don't know if I've ever seen Bella prouder, those were definitely her wide, innocent eyes and pout with trembling lip.

And the "Please stop, you're scaring me?"

Genius.

In Bella's opinion anyway. I've never used that particular technique in my _life._

That calmed Molly down, and she managed to soothe her twins.

Harry and Jack stopped crying once they realised that nothing was wrong and Draco was easily distracted by one of Cissy's butterflies. He's a bit of an airhead, that one. Reminds me a bit of Xeno Lovegood...except smaller and with a less extensive vocabulary.

Charlie felt guilty about scaring Dora and so he stopped glaring at Bill so much which meant he could relax a bit, my niece knows exactly what she's doing there I'll bet, and we could finally continue with the wedding.

Yeah, it was a bit crazy.

But Dora looked ecstatic when Barty said she could kiss the groom - yes, it probably should have been the other way around but Bill would have frozen up and that would have upset her.

So, we were all expecting a peck on the check, but the little minx went straight for the lips.

Don't look so scandalized, it was just a peck - she's _eight_, Bella's influence aside - but still, she's a smart girl.

Really, I guess the only casualty was Lucius's robes.

While we were all looking impressed by Dora's ring, Ted wandered over and showed his opinion of the man quite clearly.

First time I've ever agreed with the bastard...uh, puppy.

Though I voted to turn Dory into a hat as well, come to that. But Bella didn't listen to me, the bitch.

….You didn't hear that."

**.sSs.**

Andromeda eased the door open a crack and smiled. Nymphadora looked like she was having good dreams, which was quite reasonable after the day she'd had. There had been a lot of excitement. It was nice to meet her future son-in-law so young, she could keep an eye on him while he was at Hogwarts now.

Make sure he didn't do anything foolish.

Her eyes fell on the pile of presents, left by the desk until the thank-you letters could be written in the morning. She walked carefully over, even though she doubted Lucius would permit a squeaky floorboard in his house, and placed a small, leather-bound book on the top of the pile. Dora only had three years until she went to Hogwarts and she had so much to learn before she got there. Things were changing and it was important that there was a Black in Slytherin - not a Tonks in Hufflepuff.

They were finally on the right path.

Ted woke up from where he was curled up on a pillow near Nymphadora's head as she leaned over to kiss her daughter's forehead. He whimpered softly, seeming to radiate confusion and disbelief. Her long plait swung over her shoulder and almost hit him in the face, but she took pity on the little mutt.

"Come on then." She whispered, walking out of the room and pulling the door too. He wasn't the man she should have married, not by a long-shot. But he'd given her the daughter she needed, the daughter her family would need, and she had been fond of him, loved him even. She did owe him something of an explanation.

She owed him a lot more than that for giving her the opportunity to find the key to breaking the curse.

She summoned a small ball of witch-light and led her husband into the study next to her room.

Sending the small glowing green globe into the scone on the wall, she sat, curled up, on the couch. After a few moments of hesitation, Ted jumped up and sat beside her.

He placed a tentative paw on her leg when she didn't immediately start talking.

"I know. I'm sorry." Andromeda told him, "But it's Family Law. Mother said that if a man was going to go around humping other women's legs he should be put into a form where it was acceptable behaviour and wouldn't embarrass the family name. Not that you ever had_ our_ name, but Bella is still a little worried about me running off again. And this was the price, in some ways, of my return to my family, and for what I've discovered. All knowledge has a price, that's one of the first things a Pureblood learns."

Ted whined.

"I know, it isn't fair. And I do wish that I hadn't married you. You wouldn't be in this mess if I'd just done as I was told and married Rabastan. But I thought I'd figured it out, you see. I thought I'd finally discovered why Phineas Nigellus's Curse only affected some of us. And I was right. I can fix it now, I can save the entire family. But the price was exile. It was destroying the destiny of the man I married, and shirking my own fate."

She stroked his ears absent-mindedly.

"At least you're alive, though. Bella really did want to kill you for 'stealing me'. And trust me, you don't want to be on her bad side. Torture and Interrogation is her things you can do with a simple cleaning charm..."

That prompted a sullen growl. She chuckled.

"I know, it's a small consolation. But perhaps you can earn her forgiveness? The joy of this punishment is that it can be reversed, if the caster believes that the subject has learned their lesson. In the meantime, don't try to communicate with anyone. The spell is based on a minor form of the Fidelius Charm, and it will hurt to try spread the secret. Blacks have learned the art of vengeance well in the last hundred years." She smiled mysteriously, "But the lesson is about to end. It's all in the blood you know."

**.sSs.**

**AN: The questions for this week's chapter:**

**Should Dumbledore allow more pets at Hogwarts? If so, who should bring what?**

**Also:**

**Were we too rough on Ted? Or not rough enough?**

**Your opinions and ideas motivate and inspire us, y'know. Remember, we would love to hear critique from you, the readers. Tell us what you feel about BM. We want to know, so don't spare us the details.**


	10. Suspicions

**Black ****Madness**

**.**

**Suspicions**

**Chapter**** 10**

**.****sSs****.**

Dora settled on the bed with her new diary, a gift from her Uncle Barty who said she should use it to write down the spells she learnt or created.

It was very considerate of him to say that, she wouldn't want Charlie (or Merlin forbid, _Bill_), to ever, ever read it.

She picked up the matching quill.

It didn't match in colour, of course. What it matched in was the charms that allowed it to change colour depending on her mood while she was writing.

Her new uncle was very strange (they all were) but he gave very nice presents.

Dear Diary.

She wrote, pausing to consider what she should put next. After a few minutes, ink started to drip off the edge of the quill onto the bed and she jumped, mumbling angrily to herself.

She jumped again when she felt a cold nose against her arm.

"Dory!" She yelped, glancing around at the pudgy puppy. Dory jumped.

She immediately felt bad for yelling when she noticed that he had brought her a towel from her bathroom to clean up the mess and gave him a scratch behind his ears, ignoring how he tried to duck away from her hand.

Maybe that's what she should start with. She balled up the dirty towel and threw it into her washing basket.

Then she sat back down, wet her quill and started to write.

Life is very strange now. Mum and I are living with Auntie Narcissa who says I should call her Cissa. We are also living with he rhusband, Uncle Lucius and my oldest baby cousin Draco. I have several other cousins, like Harry and Jack and Charlie and Bill, but Uncle Lucius says they aren't really my cousins and Auntie Cissa says that means I can marry Bill if I want too.

Bill and I got married yesterday. I know it wasn't a real marriage, I'm not silly like Charlie and I know that you have to get specially married when you're an adult, but it was nice anyway. And Auntie Bella says that it is never too early to let a boy know I like him and that if I wait too longI will miss out like all the other girls. Auntie Bella is very odd (like my Uncles) but very nice and very smart. She let me borrow her wand last night and helped me charm Dory's name onto his name tag. Baby Ron and Baby Ginny, who are Charlie and bill's baby brother and sister couldn't come to my party, even tho Harry and Jack and Draco did. Their mummy said that they were sick. Baby Neville couldn't come either, because he's sick too. 

She dropped the currently blue-grey diary with a start when her mum opened the door.

"Good morning." Her mum said, raising an eyebrow at the diary. Dora wished she could raise an eyebrow, but Uncle Lucius said it would take time and practice, and she didn't even know that people could do that until her mum started visiting her family again. The non-Sirius portion of her family anyway.

"Morning mum." Dora said, "Is dad back yet?"

Her mum shook her head as Dory whined. Dora saw her mum's eyes glance at her puppy. Her mum looked odd for a second, then came and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Nymphadora Black." She said. That was something else new, none of her new relatives called either of them Tonks, they were always called Blacks which mum said was her pre-wedding name. Like she would one day be Nymphadora Weasley (or maybe Weasley-Black, or Black-Weasley. Aunt Bella seemed insistent on making sure she kept the family name, whatever that meant).

"If I tell you something, can you be a strong girl?"

Dora nodded.

"You won't like it, and it will probably make you feel very upset." she warned.

Dora nodded again, worried by her mum's sudden strangeness.

"I don't think your dad will ever come back." Andromeda said softly, eyebrows pulled into a worried frown as she grasped Dora's hands.

Dora felt like she had fallen down the stairs again. She didn't know which of a hundred questions to ask first and so could only sit there gasping for breath and feeling her eyes prickle with tears she refused to shed. She'd promised to be a strong girl, and strong girls didn't cry.

But then her mum pulled her into her arms and stroked her hair gently and the tears fell anyway.

"I'm sorry!" She wailed, seizing onto the one thing which she was sure about.

"Why?" Her mum asked.

She explained, sobbing out the words, watching her skin turn slowly greyer and greyer until it was a deep black.

"Oh, Nymphlet." Her mum said, "I didn't mean you couldn't cry. Crying is very important, sweetheart. I just didn't want you to feel guilty or like it was your father's fault. I know that he loves you very much, and he would be here if he could. And the fact that he can't be here isn't anyone's fault. But sometimes bad things happen, right?"

Dora nodded, still crying. It was like that time she'd fallen down the stairs and broken her arm and her dad's new golf clubs.

"And sometimes, no matter how much we wish otherwise, people can't be there any more, even if it's nobody's fault. And when that sort of thing happens we shouldn't blame ourselves or anyone else, and that's what I meant by being strong, alright? Your father loves you, we all love you, and he would be here if he could. And being strong means accepting that it is just one of the bad things that happen. It doesn't mean you can't cry."

Dora nodded, letting herself be rocked slowly back and forth and staring at Dory where he had hidden himself under the dresser with only the very tip of his tail visible. She was still crying, but the desperate, gasping sobs had stopped and she felt better, somehow, even if it still hurt. She fell into a fitful slumber, wrapped up comfortingly in her mother's arms.

When she woke up, her mum was still sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at her with her strange black eyes. Dora felt a little bit scared, but she'd seen her mother like this before, when she was six, and her mum had prophesied who Dora would marry.

"My Gifted daughter." Her mum said, her voice echoing as if she were in one of the old cathedrals they used to visit. "Daughter of my house and of muggle blood. Mother of tigers, Healer's proof. You shall lead his way and he shall follow and lead you. Always Pure, Always Power, Always Black."

Dora watched curiously as the black faded from her mother's eyes. She wanted to ask what her mum meant, but her mum had asked her not to talk to anyone about what happened when her eyes went funny. Even to her.

It only took a few minutes for her mum to look at her properly again.

She looked very worried.

"Go talk to Cousin Sirius." She said, knowing that it was what her mum needed to do.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Dora said. She wasn't really, she had far too many questions and really just wanted her mum to brush her hair, but mum had been talking a lot about duty over the last few months, and she knew now that when something big happened you were supposed to go talk to the Lord Black, and that Sirius was the Lord Black. Mum's eyes didn't go black often, and going black was a big thing. Therefore, mum needed to go see Cousin Sirius and Dora would curl up with her Dory and her diary.

Mum would be back soon anyway.

Her mum hesitated for a minute, and then nodded, she kissed Dora's forehead and promised to be back soon, then hurried off.

Dora looked around the room for something to distract her from how alone she suddenly felt. Spying her stack of presents, she nodded decisively, mum always insisted that she write letters to thank people who brought her presents, she should start.

That was a duty too.

Slipping out of bed, she picked up the top present. She didn't remember who gave it to her, she wasn't even sure she remembered getting it. It was a small book, bound in black leather like Uncle Sirius's gloves and Uncle Regulus's trousers. It had an odd picture on it, of a shield with two stars and a sword on the inside and a dog on each side.

She opened it, intending to find out who it was from so she could write her letter.

As soon as she opened the cover, a wave of solid black flowed from the book and covered her body. She panicked, trying to fight it off, but quickly slid to the floor, unconscious.

**.****sSs****.**

Andromeda found Sirius in the Lestrange library after a short, but confusing search. It seemed Bella had been getting into the mystery novels again, creating riddles and puzzles and refusing to give anyone a straight answer. She had left Rodulphus in the middle of one of Bella's logic puzzles, looking completely confused.

She opened the carved mahogany door to the library. Her cousin was sitting in an armchair in the wide sitting area in the center of the library, his legs slung over one side of the armchair while he twirled his old silver flute like a conductors baton. Bella's protege, Barty, sat in an identical armchair opposite Sirius, holding what appeared to be a letter of some kind. More paper was spread over the ornate coffee-table set between them.

With a raised eyebrow, Andromeda shut the door quietly behind her and decided to eavesdrop for a little bit before she informed her cousin of her presence. She needed to catch her breath, anyway. A proper prophesy always made her tired.

"Ah, what about this one? Wealthy dowager, needing a touch-up on the ancient, and I mean _ancient__, _blood wards on her mansion. Willing to pay, as well."

"Hm...maybe, could be good practise, I suppose. But can you say _bo__-__oring__?" _

"Heh, I know." Barty threw the letter in his hand onto the table, before shuffling through them for a while. He ended up picking the next letter at random. Andromeda watched as a quick cutting charm removed the envelope and Barty unfolded the parchment inside.

The grin that lit up his face definitely meant trouble.

"Ooh, what about this? Old, abandoned castle somewhere in Hungary that may or may not have hidden treasure. Gringotts wants a team - although, they're not paying well..."

Andromeda saw Sirius's smirk from her place by the door, it was so pronounced. She sighed, starting to get a bad feeling about whatever it was they were talking about.

"They're probably looking for some newbie who's down in their luck and thinks they can keep some of the treasure for themselves. Then the Goblins can lay claims for theft and get even more gold in compensation...Pfft, it could be fun! Not that I need treasure...but a creepy, ruined castle with all sorts of nasty curses? It'd be an adventure!"

She saw Barty's answering grin and decided it was time to intervene. She needed to talk to Sirius, and she obviously needed to head off this little adventure before it began. She needed them in _London_, working out how they're going to adopt Harry and break the infernal curse before it was too late, not gallivanting across the Hungarian country-side, fighting Salazar knows what and getting lost in abandoned castles.

She pushed off the door and hurried down the open corridor of bookcases to the sitting area where Barty and Sirius were encamped with a long suffering sigh and a shake of her head.

"We'll need camping gear, I doubt the castle will be anywhere near an inn...and maybe you could acquire a Healer's form? Then we could bring Bella, she's always useful - oh, Hullo, Meda! Do y'think we'll need a kettle?"

"No, Siri. You won't need a kettle, or Bella and certainly not camping gear. Please refrain from running across Europe - it's annoying to have to chase you down when I need you to do something. Would it kill you to get a proper job?"

Sirius pouted. "Yes, it would. I _like_being a consulting curse-breaker. It means people have to come to _me__, _instead of the other way around."

Andromeda sighed. "You, Sirius Betelgeuse, are inherently lazy."

Sirius just smirked, twenty years of being berated, scolded and screeched at meaning he could simply let the comment roll over him.

"Any reason_why_you're destroying our hopes of a camping trip?" He asked curiously. Barty was already clearing up their make-shift office. Andromeda drew in a breath and stared at her cousin dolefully.

"I need to talk to you." she said. "I think I may have just predicted my daughter's future as her bed-time story."

**.****sSs****.**

Peter's life was just one long panic-attack.

He gulped and read over the _Daily __Prophet _article again, smoothing out some of the many creases it had gained over the many re-readings - he'd crumpled it into a ball the first time he read it and the reaction had only gotten worse.

He was doomed, not by James or Remus or the mudblood, but by the one man out of Peter's old friends that Peter was certain would kill him given half a chance.

The self-same man who, apparently, had teamed up with Death Eaters just to kill Peter.

Sirius Black.

_**WIZARDING **__**NOBILITY **__**WALKS **__**FREE**__**.**__  
__By __Dolores __J__. __Umbridge_

_As __the __clean__-__up __of __the __war __continues__, __the __trials __of __both __convicted __Death __Eaters __and __the __wrongly__-__accused __gets __under__way__, __beginning __with __the __trials __concerning __the __elite __members __of __our __society__. __You__-__Know__-__Who__'__s __aims __were __widely __known__ - __the __desire __the __purge __the __world __of __Muggles __and __Muggle__-__born __and __create __a __Pureblood __wizarding __society__. __As __such__, __many __of __the __old __pureblood __families __were __cast __into __suspicion __and __many __have __been __called __into __question__, __but __none __so __much __as __the __known __Dark __supporters__, __The __Family __Black__. __So __it __surprised __many __when __this __particular __family __not __only __agreed __to __the __questioning__, __but __did __so __with __much __more __dignity __then __could __be __said __of __some __of __their __peers__. __The __Ladies __Black__ (__now __known __of __course__, __as __Malfoy__and __Lestrange__ - __see __page__ 12 - __Love__, __Loyalty __and __Marriage__, __Why __Pre__-__Arrangement __Is __Important__) __held __themselves __with __dignity __both __while __their __husbands __were __questioned __and __during __their __own __public __interrogations__. __Both __the __Lord __Lucius __Malfoy __and __the __Lord __Rodulphus __Lestrange __have __been __accused __of __being __active __Death __Eaters __prior __to __the __downfall __of __You__-__know__-__who__, __but __as __no __physical __evidence __could __be __brought __forward __by __the __accusers__, __the __two __Lords __did __not __need __to __undergo __interrogation __under __the __influence __of __Veritserium__. __Rabastan __Lestrange__, __younger __brother __of __Lord __Lestrange__, __was __also __required __to __undergo __questioning__. __Considering __what __they __were __being __accused __of__, __Malfoy __and __Lestrange __were __polite __and __helpful__...__for __full __details __of __the __Malfoy__/__Lestrange __trials__, __turn __to __page__ 3. __Whilst __the __trials __of __our __esteemed __nobility __were __most __informative__, __there __was __none __less __surprising __then __the __surprise __trial __of __Lord __Sirius __Black__. __Your __reporter __was __sent __to __find __out __more__..._

It then went on to explain how the Dark Lord had driven a wedge between poor, _poor_Lord Sirius and his late father, causing the handsome heir to run away after the late Lord Orion had tried to force his son to take the Dark Mark. That was a blatant lie - Sirius had never met the Dark Lord, let alone turned down his mark. But what worried Peter the most was the fact that Sirius' story had been backed by the Lords previously mentioned in the article - known Death Eaters, Malfoy and Lestrange. How _those_two had escaped being thrown in Azkaban, he didn't know. Bribes probably. But they weren't strong enough to have cast an _Imperious_on Sirius, because he'd always been the only one in the Marauders who could successfully fight off that particular curse. Which could only mean one thing...

Sirius had teamed up with Death Eaters in order to achieve their mutual goal - Kill Peter Pettigrew.

Peter wasn't stupid - he knew, what with his Master's unexpected failing to kill the Potter brats, that the Inner Circle would want his head. They'd known who the Order spy was, after all.

His hands were shaking again. He dug a calming draught out of his pocket and swallowed it, before transforming and disappearing out through a hole in the wall.

He would need to hide - before Sirius found him, or worse...Bellatrix did.

**.****sSs****.**

"Whooo...Look at all this dust!" James exclaimed, turning slowly to gaze up at the dust-covered hallway of the Potter Mansion. It had been five years since he'd entered the old mansion itself - his late parents house brought back too many memories. When he'd left school, he'd moved into the Potter's London house, where Lily had joined him a year later. He always planned on leaving the mansion alone, but for a while, it had been considered as the best hideout for Lily, the twins and him while ole Voldy shorts was chasing them. Luckily - for his sanity, at least - he'd convinced Dumbledore that the old cottage at Godric's hollow was a much better hiding place.

Now, however, the cottage was in ruins, and being turned into some sort of monument to his Heir's baffling "defeated You-know-who" moment. James would have happily moved back into the London house, but apparently the wizarding media had found out the address , and he kinda wanted some peace and quiet with his family. Not to mention the press scared the shit out of him. They were just a _tad _more persistent that his old fan-club at Hogwarts.

So here he was, braving the old memories of his childhood home in order to find somewhere where he and Lily could raise their kids in peace.

"Gotta get Pepsi to clean this place..." He muttered, drawing a smiley face in the film of dirt on the hall mirror. "At least we won't have to worry about furniture."

"Indeed." A grumpy, rasping voice said from behind him. James froze, and slowly turned around.

Behind him, a silvery, floating figure was standing, slightly blurred at the edges. The old ghost had a pointed goatee and a thick moustache, as well as fly-away eyebrows over translucent round glasses. His hair was, as it always was, swept into two almost points on either side of the top of his head. He was wearing a thick overcoat over his robes, his gloved hand resting on an elaborate sabre at his hip.

"Oh..." James said nervously, running his hand through his hair. "Hi, Grandfather. Has anyone told you lately that you look awfully like Leon Trotsky?"

"No, you impertinent child, they have _not__._ But that might be due to the fact that the house has bee completely empty since Charlus and Dorea died." Edward Potter glared at his Great-grandson, before sweeping off down an dark corridor.

"I hope you're going to do your duty to your family now, James." The spectre's echoing voice called back at him as the shimmering figure was swallowed up by the heavy darkness of the empty house.

"Well, Lily's going to _hate_him." James said aloud. "Harry might like him though. It's not like I can get rid of him or anything, guy's been here since that Russian Emperor-dude poisoned him or whatever."

"Time to step up to my duty, i suppose..." The Renegade Lord Potter said. "At least Sirius has family that is the same age as him...All I've got is a bunch of old aunties in Ireland and a whole host of ghosts..."

**.****sSs****.**

Sirius hummed as he painted a mural on the wall of the Twin's bedroom at Hogwarts. His godson - and soon to be adopted Heir - was helping him. So far they had at least thirty different coloured handprints and a large image of a bright green dog. Jack was asleep in the crib behind them.

What was worrying, though, was Andromeda's memory of the prophesy she'd foretold in Nymphadora's bedroom that morning. He was the only one who'd viewed the memory, and so the only one other that Dora who had heard it. But he wasn't sure what it meant...and he needed to figure it out, in case it had a negative effect on his plans.

He hoisted Harry up on his hip, and grinned at the toddler, who grinned back and continued printing pink handprints on Sirius' painting.

"You'll be brilliant, kid." He murmured to the child. "A proper dark lord. Did you know that in the last century, Magical Britain has become increasingly backward - especially compared to the other nations in Europe? It's kinda Dumbledore's fault, he put too much influence on the "light" and got rid of the classes here at Hogwarts, the ones that taught Muggleborns about the balance of magic, about our culture. There are whole generations who don't know that Dark and Light isn't about good and evil, it's about the moon and the sun; about how your magic is aligned to nature and the elements. Dumbledore's made them all think that they _have _to be Light, because the Dark is full of murderers and sadists and Morgana knows what. The old fool." He added, slightly fondly.

He knew _why _Dumbledore's views on Magic was skewed: the Old Man had been pretty messed up by Grindelwald's betrayal. But Gellert Grindelwald had been a bad egg, simply put.

However, a teenage Dumbledore - born into a light family and completely ignorant of Dark traditions - came to the conclusion that all Dark magic practitioners were like Grindelwald.

Unfortunately, Dumbledore was a brilliantly narrow-minded genius with a huge amount of influence over other Light families and the Wizarding government. Combined with an already declining adherence to tradition and a stagnated society, the Dark had quickly gone from an important part of the balance of magic to an inherent evil.

"That's why we need you, kid." Sirius continued, smiling at Harry as he deposited the boy and the paint tray on the floor by the wall. "The Black family is cursed - my idiot of a relative, Phineas Nigellus, humiliated a muggleborn Light witch when he was alive. Something to do with an illegitimate child, i think. She cursed him and his kin - Light curses can be particularly nasty, 'y'know. The Dark is aligned with death, but the Light is aligned with Life. She cursed our lives, to wither and die long before our contemporaries; to be drained of our magic. But no one knew why it only affected some of us. Andromeda figured it out. There's a whole generation - excluding my mother and father - who weren't affected. Turns out they all married witches or wizards from Pro-muggle families. None of their children who were raised with the same views as their non-black parent were affected. And neither is Nymphadora, who has a muggleborn father, or any of Cedrella and Septimus Weasley's children... I am though. And so are my cousins, and my brother."

Sirius sighed, and twirled a spiral around one of Harry's handprints. His magic fluctuated, and he could feel the darkness bleeding out of his eyes, his pupils expanding until his eyes were nothing but gaping black holes in his head, ring with silver light. Harry stared up at him, curious but not afraid of one of the most obvious signs of a true Dark practitioner.

"By adopting a child with dark leanings, from a light family, we can break the curse. You're born dark, Harry m'lad, but you're still a half-blood, with a Light Muggleborn witch as a mother. By making you my Heir, all those blood-sworn to you, that'll be Dora and Draco, and me and my generation, will be exempt from the curse. It won't get passed on. And then we can teach you how to be a proper Dark Lord, and re-affirm the balance of magic in Britain. There'll be a war, y'know. And you'll have to get rid of Voldemort too. But I think you can do it. You'll have me to help you, after all, and I've been planning this since I came into my inheritance."

Harry giggled and Sirius laughed too, hugging his Godson.

"Now if only we could get your mother to give you up, huh, kiddo?" He joked.

He never noticed Severus Snape standing in the doorway, listening to every word he said and staring at Sirius's magic-consumed eyes with uttermost horror.

**.****sSs****.**

When Lily returned to her chambers from her errand, she found both twins tucked up in bed for their afternoon nap, and Sirius asleep on the floor next to them. A pile of potions books had been left on the table, a note from Severus lying atop them.

She picked it up, being as quiet as she could so not to wake the three sleeping in the next room.

"_Lily__," _It read. _"__Here __are __some __more __books __that __you __might __want __to __go __over __before __you __return __to __your __studies __a t__Saint __Mungo__'__s__. __I__'__ve __found __them __particularly __enlightening__. __Try __to __choose __a __better __babysitter __next __time__. __Black __didn__'__t __even __notice __i __was __here__. ~ __Severus__. _

She smiled and shook her head - Severus always had to complain if he so much as saw Sirius. She didn't understand why they couldn't at least get on, James and Sev had already come to an uneasy accord, why couldn't Severus do the same with Sirius?

It wasn't like Sirius had tried to kill him or anything.

Sirius had even stopped acting so strange after those first few days after Voldemort was defeated. He hadn't brought up the idea of adopting Harry again either, which was more than a relief.

Humming, she put the note in her pocket and went to check on her babies, cheerfully oblivious to the wizarding politics her family was being thrown into.

**.****sSs****.**

**Finished****, ****finally****. ****So ****sorry ****for ****the ****lateness****. i would promise never to be so late again, but that would be a lie. **

**Thank you so much for all the reviews! Please keep them coming - they're the only reason i mangaged to finish this chapter at all! **


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